#jeez i did not expect to write pages on this man

[sphireath-wisp]

Hi! It's my first time requesting something. I just came back from the obey me confessions page, I would love if you wrote the brothers reactions after they found out that mc tried to stir up drama on purpose. Feel free to ignore, love your writing❤️

oh my goodness, thank you so much. I know I promised a part 2 recently, but I wanted to finish this first. The anon here refers to this post for anyone who's lost.

Lucifer thinks he's too busy for this and assumes people are just bored, watering the post down to fake news. What's with the surge in fake news in devildom anyway? He sighs deeply - a testament to how much he thinks this is such a waste of time. It was a terrible idea for Diavolo to approve of this confession page, rumors like this tarnishing your name only push him to take the account down.

Mammon wastes no time. He bursts into your room - even when he knows you're at Purgatory Hall for your weekly visit. Wait... purgatory hall? Oh my Diavolo, how could you! He's your first man and you can't just be going around kissing randoms like that. Completely ignoring Levi chiding him for the mess he's making, Mammon dashes out the door with his heart pounding in his chest. Who knows what that shady sorcerer could be doing to you now? And why him, anyway?!

Levi hears the ruckus from Mammon scrambling around in your room. Levi knows he's the type of scattered-brained idiot to forget how you're sleeping over at Purgatory Hall today, but really? Messing up your room like that? As someone who considers his room to be his safe space, seeing your space safe like that... he's really annoyed. What is Mammon rambling about anyway? You kissed Solomon? Jeez, what an idiot. Who would believe fake news like that?

Satan would rather hear it from you himself. This page is unreliable. Unless he hears it from your own mouth, he isn't too bothered by it. Admittedly, it does irk him though, but he's not the type to ask you bluntly out loud. He'll gauge your reactions and observe for now. Being too hasty with his assumptions would only make him more upset.

Asmo screams and I mean SCREAMS out in shock. He's typing away on his D.D.D., practically begging you or Solomon to answer. "Is it true? You all kissed?!" He's so proud of you, MC! Being so bold and brazen in RAD, he'll make sure to give you a surprise of his own soon!

Beel doesn't check his devilgram much and he doesn't post a lot either. The only reason why the post reached his ears was because of Belphie, but he doesn't have much of a reaction to it. It doesn't concern him and plus, anyone could have anonymously sent that right? Maybe Solomon himself posted that, only someone who cooks so horribly would try to stir the pot like this.

Belphie's pissed. You're kidding, right? There's no way. Is that why you left to sit with Solomon earlier that day? While Beel's reasoning did calm his nerves down a little, don't expect to run away to Purgatory Hall now. Both of them are on their way to Purgatory Hall as we speak and you better pray Solomon has a plan or else you're getting dragged back to HOL as soon as they get there.

Bonus:

Solomon is extremely amused, delighted even. He had the luxury of getting a sweet kiss from you and now, he has you on his bed right by him teaching you spells. As long as he ignores the constant buzz of his D.D.D. in the background and the missed calls, he feels like this night is perfect. Perhaps you'll give him another kiss tonight? Perhaps he'll make sure to record it this time as proof?

[its-a-branwen-thing]

Sometimes the lyrics of Hero get to me, you know? Like I understand it’s an Ironwood song but it sounds so...personal? Like it’s made for someone or multiple someones that aren’t just, like, the entirety of Atlas’s population as I intitally assumed. I honestly imagined his song would be more cold and militant but the lyrics, now when I read and hear them after the finale, foreshadow a loooot of things and are really, really personal.

Not to “accidentally” produce a meta on main, but this is some real foreshadowing here. Yeah, cruel and heartless, you shot Oscar! And I totally feel like the oath functions as more than one promise, but that it includes the one he made to the people, and this is all really a desperate bid to keep them safe. But... “just hold on?” Why, when you willingly sacrificed Mantle? They can’t hold on! And why “you?” There’s yous everywhere in this song! Who is the you? Is there no you and it’s just like, in general? What gets to me also is the Hope aspect. If Ironwood really believed hope wasn’t gone, why didn’t he listen to team RWBY?! Is this all a fake out for his later not-so-surprising betrayal? Or is it foreshadowing his future arc, and how he’ll actually abide by and weaponize his personal feelings emotional side in order to strike back at Salem and her team? Because as I’ve stated before, Ironwood is a big picture man and this song seems decidedly not big picture.

Oops I meant this as a shit post

Starting out with the iconic opening—I would DIIIIEEE shows Ironwood is totally self sacrificial. A bit of an ass, sure, but an ass who would sacrifice himself for you. Specifically you, maybe. And here’s where this captured me upon a second read through:

Flying into the sun? Wow, funny how Atlas was mentioned as being this crazy city that could be taken as high as possible multiple instances and how Ironwood’s final plan was to yeet it so high Salem couldn’t reach it. The sun? I don’t like this! Is this just figurative? Or is Ironwood really going to launch Atlas towards a great ball of gas burning billions of miles away? I say both!! All because it “keeps our dream alive.”

I have a feeling these oath and dream references are about Ozpin. Maybe this whole song is. And what also gets to me about this part is “the fear will surely fade.” Because oh boy, is Ironwood scared. And saying it will fade insinuates that Ironwood’s fear will eventually fade. Or fear in general, as a theme. “Surely” could be, like, him saying it with certainty only later to realize heck no fear is here to stay. And then there’s this “shelter in my arms” casual mention. I hope not those stubby V4 arms. Does he want to literally hold someone?! Side eyes only a bit reluctantly towards ironqrow. Or is this a reference to the Atlas from mythology, holding up the world, which Atlas the city gets its namesake from, and how that connects to Ironwood’s characterization and the future of his story?

But that’s not all! “We’ll survive this storm”, he says. A figurative storm? What storm? Oh, yeah! This storm:

There was lightning and everything too! Now, obviously surviving a storm could be not literal. It could be a situational storm. But then we get this actual storm at the end complete with a whale and, coupled with the idea that some of the older songs from other Volumes are prescient of current events, I feel like this is a nod to future arcs.

I’m inhaling right now, a deep breath, because this whole meta is probably just me over analyzing a cool, awesome song that wasn’t meant to be taken so seriously. But this whole season—the next two seasons, really, and likely the rest of the show, seem way more planned out and interconnected than previous ones when it comes to small details. So I just—I can’t help but feel like this song is saying more than we know and can really put together right now. Then again, War the song is like, very angsty and I would almost say unessecarily angry (“knife to my heart?” “With a smile and a cheerful heart I’ll turn to you and wave goodbye?” Get rekt, Ace Ops!!) but it’s lyrics are in line with the action. Who knows if we’ll get a Hero reprise but I want one to address all these lyrical odd and ends. Instead of Hero though it could be Enemy?? Depends on where Ironwood ends up! And who, pray tell, ends up taking his hand and shelters in his busted ass arms!

[hanmasghost]

Draken with a big brother but they aren't bloo related.

So male reader saw young draken when he was helped out a friend at the brothel and he he saw draken and he decided to randomly adopt him, without him knowing . Now the reader is there nearly every single day, and draken talks with him, patches him up if he has wounds, helps him with school work etc. And like at some point the reader can't show up that much because he got injured and now works from home. So draken will show up.

And one day he bring some toman friends (the main cast) to him after a fight and they hear Draken calling the man, that is probably around shinichiro's age, big brother. Their reaction : (☉_☉)

Draken’s Big Brother✰

Please look at my page before requesting

A/N: Sorry I don’t post often or whatever, getting the motivation to write is such a pain, also sorry, I kept getting distracted while writing so it’s probably all over the placeeee, anyways, hope this lives up to your expectations my dude♡

Pronouns: He/Him

Warning(s): cursing, vi0lence, slight alc0h0l ab*se only if ya squint, not proofread, ooc Draken?

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

It was a pretty average day for Y/n so far.

He woke up, ate, questioned life and his existence, and then watched TV.

Though unfortunately, he still had a part time job as a librarian to go to. He needs money after all.

Well actually-

He isn’t going to his part time job. At least not today.

A friend of his called him earlier and asked for a favor. So he may or may not have called in sick today so he could go help them.

-

“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome. Just know you owe me.”

“Of course. Text me when you get home!”

“Yeah yeah whatever.”

Y/n said as he walked out of the building.

“Not WhaTEvEr! You will!”

“Okay okay jeez..”

He replied putting his hands in his pockets.

“God.. I think I threw out my back or something.. am I getting old?”

Y/n grumbled.

“HEY!”

Huh?

A kid ran up the sidewalk up towards Y/n.

“____ said this was yours.”

The kid said and put his hand out towards Y/n. It was his phone? Damn. Would’ve sucked to leave that behind.

“Eh? Thank you… but hey. Aren’t ya a lil’ too young to work at the brothel kid?”

Y/n asked as he grabbed his phone.

“I don’t work there, I just live there.”

“Ohhhhh… yo! That’s a nice tattoo! When did ya get it?”

“A few weeks ago actually, why? You want one old man?”

“I.. I’m not old you little brat!”

“Uhhh sure old man.”

“I’m like nineteen you brat!”

“Huh?! No way!”

“Yes way!”

Damn.. when was the last time he acted childish?

When was the last time he was allowed to be childish?

This kid.. maybe he doesn’t have to continue just existing in this world.

Maybe just maybe…

“Say kid. How about I get ya some lunch?”

“It’s 3 in the afternoon.”

“So? Late lunch is great.”

“Whatever you say old man.”

“Hey! Watch it brat. I’m the one buying.”

-

“Oi! Old man! I’m here!”

“God damn brat- give me a second!”

“Take your time old geezer.”

“I’m twenty-four you brat!”

A few years back, around two or three, Y/n got injured after getting into serious ‘fight’.

This one guy came into the library drunk and refused to leave. Y/n tried to escort him out but the man got violent and pulled out a knife. He then proceeded to stab Y/n in the leg.

That one lucky stab just so happened hit a certain point and paralyzed Y/n.

Sure, he could probably get another job where he doesn’t have to work at home like he does now.

Though that would require going down 4 flight of stairs, seeing as there are no elevators.

And he is not going to do that everyday.

No way in hell.

That’s why Draken does his shopping and stuff for him. Though most the time he just comes over to make sure Y/n doesn’t die of boredom or loneliness.

“Oi. Lil’ bro, who are these kiddos?”

“These are my friends… they insisted on coming”

“Oh… and you let them?”

“Nothing I could do really.”

“Ha! Softie!”

Draken was about to retort when a bleach blonde haired boy spoke up.

“Sorry for the intrusion sir!”

“I’m twenty-four dammit!”

“R-Right!”

“Ughhhh! Just call me Y/n.”

Y/n said as he sat down onto his couch.

He then looked up at the group of teenagers that were in his living room. There was one bleach blonde sitting in a chair. Another blonde with and undercut sitting on the other side of the couch. A purple haired boy standing next to the seated bleach blonde. Then finally there was a blonde midget standing next to Draken.

Y/n gave them all an expectant look. Though they clearly didn’t get the gesture as they all remained quiet.

Draken just sighed.

“He wants you to introduce yourselves.”

“Oh! W-well I’m Takemichi!”

Y/n looks him up and down.

“You look like a punching bag and a waste of hair gel.”

Takemichi deflated.

“Mikey! Nice to meet you n/n-chin!!”

He received a glare in return.

“So you’re the one stealin’ my lil’ bro away… eh.. whatever. Nice to meet ya kiddo.”

Mikey just smiled.

“Chifuyu!”

Y/n looked at him and smiled.

“Alright Chifufu! Love your hair by the way!”

Chifuyu froze, did you not hear him or just say it wrong purposely?

Draken facepalmed. He’s not surprised, just disappointed.

“Mitsuya, pleasure to meet you. You’re Draken’s brother right?”

“Not like I call him my lil’ bro or anything.”

Y/n said, voice laced with sarcasm.

“Wait what?! Brother?!”

Y/n gave them a funny look.

“Looks like what they say about blondes is true, damn. First Draken and now his friends. What’s next?!”

Draken playfully glared at Y/n.

Though to Takemichi, it looked real.

“Watch it old man… I still have your groceries.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Mhm…. Mikey here.”

Draken said with no hesitation, passing Mikey a grocery bag.

“Ooo!”

“Kid I will beat your ass.”

Mikey looked at Y/n and then shrugged, focus going back to the bag.

“Why you little-“

Y/n picked up a spray bottle that was sitting on the coffee table infront of him and sprayed Mikey.

“ACK!”

“If you’re gonna act like my cats then you’re gonna get treated like ‘em kid!”

“You have cats?”

“You bet Chifufu! Wanna see ‘em?”

-

“Bye kiddos! Come and see me sometime! Or don’t, your choice.”

Y/n yelled as the four teenagers descended down the stairs of the apparently. He received some “yeah!” and some “see you later!” ‘s from them.

Now left alone with his brother, he turns to him and asks him a question.

“Soooo… did y’all win?”

Draken gives Y/n a questioning look.

“I meant did you guys win the fight?”

“Oh.. yeah, we did.”

“That Takemitchy guy seems to have taken quite the beating. Will he be okay?”

Draken smirks at the question.

“Yeah. He doesn’t give up, ever.”

“Hm.. I see..”

“What’s that look for? You look stupid old man.”

“Hey! I’m twenty-four you brat!”

“Oh? What are you gonna do old man?”

“I’m gonna kill you c’mere you brat!”

“I’m good.”

“Jokes on you kid, I got the spray bottle and I’m blocking the only exit!”

“I’m not a cat you old gee- ACK! That’s fucking cold!!”

“Sucks to suck kid!”

“Gah! Stop it old man!”

“I’m literally twenty-four you brat!”

Bonus:

“N/n-chin seems pretty cool! I wonder if he can still fight?…”

“Mikey… he’s paralyzed.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t necessarily fight.”

“You too Mitsuya?!

“Mitsuya has a point. You don’t need to walk to be able to fight.”

“Chifuyu!?”

“Maybe I could ask Ken-chin!”

Takemichi sighed.

“I hope this doesn’t affect the future… I should go see Naoto after this….”

“What did you say Takemitchy?”

“O-oh! No-thing! I didn’t say anything!”

“Sureee whatever you say partner”

“Hurry up guys or I’m leaving y’all behind!”

Mitsuya called from far ahead of the others.

As soon as he yelled that, Chifuyu and Mikey ran up ahead in Mitsuya’s direction.

“Wha- Hey wait for me you guys!”

[spidersandtomatos]

People Change

small one shot for the Childhood friends AU I have going.

“Call it a hunch..” small hands held his “But I have the feeling that we’ll meet again someday, until then please be patient!” he could swear he saw those soft pink eyes watering before the much smaller astral left.

“so you have been waiting for how long?, 1000 years??, 10000?” Captain Vul asked Meta Knight who was absentmindedly staring at his coffee mug “I don’t think this kid is coming back Meta”

“maybe it’s for the best” the knight mumbled “they were a time traveler… and I saw Halcandra now, either they are very old and don’t remember me anymore or they are dead”

“jeez, are you always this negative?” the old man gave him a look before his mind processed the time traveler part “Wait!, time traveler?!” he laughed amused as he placed his empty mug in the sink “don’t tell me bought that, sounds like the little one read way too many scifi books to me”

“you know, I had my doubts back then but I remember a dimensional rift opening high up in the sky in the same direction they left…that was enough to convince me” Yellow eyes looked at the window recalling that moment “it was a frightening sight to behold, never seen a rift that size since”

“You only agreed to help that evil catboy just so you could meet your childhood friend didn't you?” 

Not entirely, it’s true when he saw the Lor’s screen filling with the same ancient runes Aeon used to write in he felt a little hope that the strange Halcandran would take them to his home planet but he had also caved at Kirby’s pleas to help Magolor, deny it as he may the truth is that he had a soft spot for the little pink child.

“partially and Kirby better not hear you call Magolor evil, they already buried the hatchet long ago” he took a sip of his coffee “like I said already, I think it’s for the best for us to not meet again”

“hm?, thought you said you liked them” the old man leaned against the sink, seeing his superior opening up was a rare sight, suffice to say he had an easier time doing it with Sailor Dee than him.

“the truth is, I'm not the same person I was as a child” Meta Knight closed his eyes. He is seeing an adult version of Aeon with their back turned on him or at least what he thinks they may look like, long soft wavy locks of deep pink cascading their back, they would probably still be shorter than him, they were frail looking as a child “it’s dumb to assume they aren’t an abysmally different person now than they were back then, I may….” he hesitates for a moment as the figure of his friend turns to look at him, their expression is unreadable as their piercing pink eyes look at him “...I may fear that we have grown apart, I know it’s something that happens with these types of friendships and yet…I want to believe even if we were separated for so long that nothing would change between us”

he was certain his heart would break if they were to let go of their friendship so he simply did what he was best at: ignore and bury his anxiety deep down until it bursts up, future Meta Knight can deal with it. Right now it was way too early in the morning for him to worry about anything that wasn't trying to function because stars know he wasn't a morning person. 

“you know, your aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking of the worst case scenario” Vul said as he started leaving the kitchen “take a page from Kirby's book and instead start thinking about where to start when you two catch up after all these centuries”

Meta knight was left alone with his thoughts. 

I wonder if they miss me as well

He shook his head and got up, stop thinking about it, you always get depressed when you think about it!. He held Galaxia and resolved to just go outside and give her some well deserved maintenance, she needs it and he needs a distraction. 

What he wasn't expecting as a distraction were the purple hearts raining from the sky. 

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | woops, finally have chapter 3 here! alex wasn’t able to finish it so i (monnie) did, but alex edited it so it was a smooth process. please like and reblog!! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please excuse any mistakes!

WORD COUNT | 4.7k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

hongjoong had gathered everyone around, gaze settled upon his members. “this mission is very important. we’ve managed to get a good deal. he says if he manages to make a good first impression with us, he’ll be willing to work with us at a smaller price.”

everyone nodded along, understanding what he was trying to say: don’t mess this up. 

the leader continued as everyone seemed to catch the drift, “but we’re going to be very careful with this. we don’t put ourselves out there, so i don’t know how he knows our reputation enough to want to further business before we’ve even started.”

seonghwa perked up, arms tightening around himself, “that means old business is talking.” hongjoong nodded, letting him know they were both on the same page.

after a moment of silence, hongjoong sucked his teeth and looked up at y/n, eyes holding an emotion the older couldn’t read. the two held eye contact for barely 3 seconds before hongjoong spoke in yeosang’s direction. “i want you to stay here with y/n,” at those words, the younger gave a look that explained his feelings very well, y/n thought.  

yeosang thought this was bullshit, but he couldn’t speak out on it because he trusted hongjoong knew well enough. “don’t take it personal, i don’t trust y/n fully. we don’t know what can happen.”

yeosang could only nod, deciding against disobeying hongjoong’s orders. 

“alright, everyone get ready. we leave in an hour, i wanna get there early. scope out the place.”

y/n felt ashamed and angry. 

ever since the group left for the mission, almost an hour ago, yeosang has been rude and treating him like he was the cause of all his problems. he felt ashamed because yeosang’s bruteness made him feel, somewhat, small and embarrassed, like it was his fault they were in this situation.

“get out of my way,” yeosang had shoved y/n on the way to the kitchen. the older stared dumbfounded, patience wearing thin.

“a simple excuse me would’ve been nice.”

yeosang scoffed, opening the refrigerator. if there was one thing that bothered him, it was being on babysitting duty. 

“yeah, well i’m not exactly in the mood to play around and be all goody-two-shoes. so you know what would be nice?” he directed a sharp glare to y/n, not giving him a chance to answer his rhetorical question, “if you would fuck off.”

y/n bit his tongue, sizing up the smaller. his thoughts blocked his irritation, taking in the fact that yeosang was a gang member. he’s pretty sure size wouldn’t inconvenience the younger when handling a physical situation, much less a verbal one.

the doctor went to walk away as yeosang placed a plate in the microwave, until he noticed red markings on the skin of yeosang’s wrist, his shirt sleeve sliding down as his arm lifted. “are you okay?”

“last i checked, i didn’t ask for some psychological evaluation. so for the love of god-”

“no- i meant your wrist… is your wrist okay?”

a barely noticeable blush covered yeosang’s ears, “i’m fine. it’s nothing.” 

y/n’s head tilted, an unsure look on his face.“do… do you mind if i take a look at it?” 

yeosang stilled, the low hum of the microwave filling in the silence. he hesitated, but decided against it, knowing yunho had told him he needed to get it looked at because there wasn’t much he could do.

his eyes drifted to y/n, his arm slowly gravitating in the direction of y/n, a silent approval. the doctor carefully walked forward, gently grabbing yeosang’s hand and pulling the sleeve slightly. a small gasp left his mouth, the sleeve barely pulled back but the wound already looked pretty bad. “do you have a first aid kit?”

the metal lid of the small trash can clinked as it swung back and forth, ointment-clotted swabs and bandage wrappers crinkling within the confinement. “thank you,” yeosang’s voice was small, his upset mood dissipating as time went on. 

“it’s no problem,” y/n finished wrapping yeosang’s wrist, careful not to make it too tight, “that was a second degree burn though… how’d you get it?”

yeosang looked down, a blush settling on his cheeks. his head dropped and his feet swung under the medical cot he sat on. he mumbled something, biting his lip afterwards, and y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “i’m sorry, what was that?” and yeosang mumbled once more, y/n still not hearing what he said. “huh?”

“i said i burned myself trying to help seognhwa hyung make your meals!”

y/n blinked, “oh.”

and for the next few moments, it was deadly silent, the ticking of the wall clock echoing. y/n couldn’t take the awkwardness any longer, clearing his throat, “well, next time you get hurt, please don’t be afraid to come to me. it’d give me something to do, i already feel pretty useless and lonely here, to be honest.”

yeosang looked up, his feet no longer swinging, and a confused look on his face. “you’re not useless. we wouldn’t have kept you alive if you were.”

at that moment y/n inhaled, not knowing how to respond to that. “uh, jeez, that uh… hm, that makes me feel better… i guess?” a moment passed before the two chuckled, a comedic break turning out to be a lot more comforting than they expected. 

minutes passed, their conversation dying down into light replies and subtle smiles when yeosang asked a question that threw the doctor off. “do you know anyone by the name of heeseung?”

dozens of thoughts raced through y/n’s mind; why does he want to know? is heeseung okay? did he do something he wasn’t supposed to? 

“. . . yes.” but y/n couldn’t ask any further because before he knew it, yeosang had nodded and gotten down from the cot, walking out of the infirmary area.

meanwhile, miles away the others had arrived at the meeting spot, every member cautiously looking out for anything strange. seonghwa began pulling in closer to the black van adjacent to theirs, letting hongjoong and wooyoung scout to make sure this was the man they were meeting with.

after confirmation that this was dongwoo, they holstered their weapons within the waistbands of their trousers and exited the van. 

“have you got it?” hongjoong cut to the chase; he was quite a brute person when it came to work. and dongwoo and his people wanted to make a good first impression? he’d see how well he could handle him.

“yep, got a truckload of ak-47’s, m16’s, and a couple 9mm’s. all smuggled from america.”

hongjoong pursed his lips, an impressed nod making dongwoo’s ego subtly inflate. word on the street said no one had successfully managed to smuggle weapons, specifically guns, to ateez without the korean law getting too heavily involved. the trader always got caught, and ateez always made sure to utilize their connections and silence those who they couldn’t trust to keep their mouths shut. 

hongjoong had to go to some expensive lengths just to get the glock 17’s they used now. the quality of the gun proved its worth though, they learned. however, it was rare that they resorted to guns—they didn’t rely on them unless they themselves were in danger or if someone needed to be silenced quickly.

“looks good to me,” hongjoong complimented, turning his head slightly toward wooyoung, “bring out their payment.” 

wooyoung nodded briefly, bringing his hands from behind his back, a large herbal drink-branded bag being showcased. dongwoo raised a brow, peeking over and catching a glimpse of the rolls of cash that filled the bag to the brim.

“thank you for your service,” hongjoong beckoned wooyoung to hand the bag to dongwoo, before he went to step toward his shipment.

“wait, what?”

at dongwoo’s abruptness, san stepped forward, “what do you mean ‘what’? take the deal or leav—” his words died down and he cowered back when hongjoong’s sharp glare met his eyes, immediately silencing him. 

the leader clasped his hands behind his back and made a sharp turn toward the man. “is there something wrong?” his head was tilted and a curious look was on his face, there shouldn’t have been anything wrong with this offer and if there was, there was only a problem on dongwoo’s side. call it being ignorant, but hongjoong didn’t say he never had a problem because he wanted to be cocky and egotistic. it was simply the truth. 

out of every issue he and the others had encountered with a deal, none had gone wrong on their part. it was part of the reason their group was at the top—they were efficient business partners and leaders. something only went wrong when non-mutual expectations weren’t met.

“there’s no ‘we’re looking forward to doing future business with you’?”

a small smirk had taken over hongjoong’s lips, hidden by the hanging of his head. “mr. yoo, we further business with those of the same intentions as us. do you, perhaps, know what those intentions are?”

dongwoo stood dumbfounded; of everything he heard about ateez and their leader, he didn’t think to find out just what their goal was.

“it seems you don’t know, so i’ll tell you. we, ateez, have come this far from one thing and one thing only—loyalty. when i heard your proposition of your first impression leading to cheaper traders, something was a little off,” his eyes squinted and he bought his pointer finger and thumb to barely touch, “you know a little too much, don’t you think?”

dongwoo’s eyes widened slightly but he recovered, however, it was noticeable. “what are you talking about?” 

“someone’s been talking, haven’t they? leaking information about us that they, most certainly, weren’t warranted to give, but you probably don’t know much—you’re not the loose tie that needs to be cut off,” he looked dongwoo dead in the eyes as his own narrowed, “i hope.”

his intimidating stare lasted for a few moments more before a light smile covered his face, eye lightening. “take your payment, we’ll be taking our things and leaving.”

hongjoong gave a nod of his head, him and the rest of ateez splitting up to hook the small weapon-filled-trailer to their own vehicle, dongwoo and his men pulling off once it was unattached. 

“boss, i don’t feel so good about this right now. i think we should hurry and get out of here.” yunho spoke, a hand rubbing at the hairs that stood on the back of his neck. hongjoong didn’t question further, sharing the suspenseful feeling that creeped up his spine, giving a prompt nod.

after 5 minutes were spent attaching the trailer and making sure they were ready to go, seonghwa started the engine and waited for everyone to get in. just as san and mingi were about to get in the van, the screeching of tires sounded nearby.

“get down!” and bullets went flying.

“do you like raisin bran?”

y/n gave a slight nod, folding his hands in front of him. “sure!” yeosang held the box in the air, stopping mid-grab.

“aren’t you a doctor? raisin bran has a lot of sugar…”

y/n shrugged his shoulders, standing to get bowls for the both of them, “i’m a doctor, not a dentist. besides, i’m quite the sugar addict. with the injuries i see and multiple hour surgeries i perform, i need some type of a high—so sugar high it is!”

yeosang laughed, shaking his head and setting the cereal box on the counter before grabbing the milk from the fridge. “quick question doc,” yeosang began and y/n looked at him, setting the bowls and spoons down. “milk first or cereal?”

yeosang held a laugh in when y/n had a visibly offended look on his face, a hand pressing to his chest. “yeosang, please tell me you put cereal fi—”

“shit! y/n where the fuck are you?!” someone had frantically shouted from the front of the house, yeosang and y/n giving each other a worried look before tripping over their own feet to reach the living room.

“oh my—what happened?!”

“fuck,” hongjoong let out a belligerent roar, “get him to the infirmary!”

y/n panicked, grabbing onto the injured man and hoisting him up into his arms, rushing to the infirmary. he looked down at the paled man in his arms, huffing out a breath of air, “don’t worry san, i’ve got you!”

san lies on the medical cot, eyes still and closed and chest rising and falling in a calming pattern. y/n is sitting next to him, checking his vitals every few minutes and making sure his labs are okay. after verifying everything is stable, he sat the clipboard down, closing his own eyes and lying his head in his arms on the cot, dozing off. 

it’d been about 3 hours since san was bought in like this. y/n could’ve laughed at how freaked out he was earlier—san’s injuries weren’t even the worst he’s ever seen or treated, but your emotions and professionalism change when the person lying on your operating table is someone you have a nice relationship with… and when said patient’s fellow gang members are breathing down your neck, reminding you that there’s no other option than survival for him...

“how is he?” hongjoong’s voice startled y/n out of his exhausted haze, the older jumping in his spot.

“he’s fine now. if you’d have been any later, he would have coded… and i can’t do much for coding outside a hospital.”

the leader nodded his head, his chest and shoulders dropping slightly as if he could finally breathe. y/n watched him, watched how hongjoong toed around the cot, staring san’s unconscious form down.

y/n fumbled with his fingers, running over his next words in his head before just blurting them. “is it hard?”

“what do you mean?”

he shrugged his shoulders, looking at the shorter, “being a leader… having to watch over everyone,” he held eye contact with the leader, trying to read his expression, “it must be suffocating when something happens to one of them.”

hongjoong’s tongue swiped over his teeth as he stared the taller down. the air around them was tense—hongjoong knew y/n meant good by his words, but he’s not the type of person to just get emotional with people, especially those who aren’t exactly close to him. the others may see y/n as someone more than a hostage, but to hongjoong, he was just that. a person they were taking advantage of—a person who was only cooperative because his life was on the line.

“we’re going to head back to the shooting scene and see if we can find anything that’ll lead us to dongwoo, son-of-a-bitch. wooyoung and yeosang will stay with you and san… so let them know if you or san needs anything.” y/n cleared his throat, giving a curt nod before standing up and walking toward the cabinets, desperate to escape the awkward and tense aura. 

when he heard the door to the infirmary shut, signaling hongjoong had left, he let out a sigh before starting to occupy himself again. he opened a cabinet, grabbing a roll of gauze—it was time to change san’s dressings.

as he made his way back to the cot, he noticed san was now awake and it caused him to stop in his tracks. “when did you wake up?”

“unfortunately, when it got awkward,” san watched y/n’s face fall, a look of embarrassment overtaking his tired features. he held back a teasing smile, leaning back on his arms, although hissing in pain and sitting back up when the pressure sent a stabbing pain through his side and shoulder. he watched y/n walk toward him and lift his clean shirt to start snipping at the dirtied gauze anchored around his naked shoulder.

a few moments went by of y/n re-bandaging and wrapping san’s wounds before the injured boy’s head tilted to the side. he didn’t know if it was because he was high off pain meds or if it was because he’s been so deprived of seeing an unfamiliar face… but y/n looked really handsome and flattering. even thinking about feeling that way sent a drunk feeling to san’s head, his mind getting lost and going blank in the echoing cavity of his skull. it was no secret to himself that he was rather flexible when it came to his romantic relationships and feelings, but he was still foreign to it.

he decided to push it to the back of his mind, feeling rather rushed and irrational at the moment, “y/n hyung… are you feeling better now?”

the older turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “i should be asking that—you’re the one who got shot in the shoulder and stomach,” he pulled san’s shirt back down, careful not to put pressure on his shoulder. he turned around for a moment before turning back and wrapping san’s arm in a sling.

“thank you,” the younger softly spoke, before continuing, “i just noticed you’re more at ease with all of...this. it’s almost a complete 180 from when we first met.”

the doctor’s hands froze against his own lap, a sigh leaving his mouth and his eyes fluttering in a blink of realization, “i guess so.”

“they’re not here—”

hongjoong sighed through his nose, looking rather composed; and the others thought it wasn’t much of a deal until the leader kicked the seat in front of him, scaring seonghwa, who was in the driver’s seat. “call yeosang.”

“been here for a while, what’s up.” said male spoke through their communicator, sounding calm and unbothered.

“can you please stop doing th—can you find anything about dongwoo’s whereabouts?”

“give me a sec,” the boy registered, the clicking of a keyboard sounding into the communication device.

“alright so while yeosang’s doing what should have been done, please tell me why there wasn’t an extensive amount of research on this client?” hongjoong was pissed. not only did their transaction end in a one-sided gunfight, it ended up with one of their own having more than one bullet wound.

wooyoung swallowed, knowing damn well the question was aimed at him. “hyung, i did do research. i made sure to look up what links he has with other businesses and everything that i could think of. i’ve never failed at doing so-”

“then why did you fail this time?”

it got heavily quiet, seonghwa looking at his boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. no one uttered a breath and looked away from a fidgeting wooyoung.

“aight i’m back.”

hongjoong ignored seonghwa’s prompting  gaze, “what did you find?”

“nothing. they’re good at covering their tracks and maybe that’s why wooyoung couldn't find much. usually, we resort to hacking, but i’ve never seen these sorts of codes before and if you want me to break the wall down it will take longer than what you’d want.”

the leader sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose while bouncing his right leg. “No it’s fine, we’ll just hope dongwoo and his crew don’t appear again.”

“but hyung, isn’t that a little reckless-”

“you shouldn’t be one to speak right now.” hongjoong turned to glare at wooyoung, the younger male pursing his lips and nodding. “everyone get in the car, we're going back.”

“...so i’m not going to try and hack this? aw.”

“what’s wrong?” san frowned as wooyoung sulked while sitting next to him on the cot.

“hyung’s mad with me…”

y/n had his back facing them, trying to arrange the mess that was on the counter where all the ointments and supplies were. yunho had came in earlier to apologize for not keeping it organized, his exact words being “i just clean up their wounds as best as i can, and i’m not really in here unless it’s an emergency.”

san lingered a glance at y/n as if the older would do the same. “is it because of dongwoo?”

the younger nodded with a pout, leaning on san’s side. “mhm, and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

“well you know joong-hyung, he’s…” san thought for a few seconds, and when he couldn't find the words, he bit the inside of his cheek. “ he’ll get over it, just give it time. or talk to seonghwa-hyung, he’ll know what to do, he always does.”

wooyoung whined, “i already did! and he said ‘i can’t do anything’ with that pained smile of his!”

san blinked, “what? you’re lying, hwa-hyung would never fail us-”

“no no, i was there. he talked to hongjoong-hyung before wooyoung came up to him...or at least tried. joong-hyung isn’t talking to anyone right now. that’s why hwa-hyung told you he can’t do anything.”

“yeo, i swear you’re the nosiest person ever. like, please, i’m not sure if that’s good or bad sometimes.” san grimaced after processing yeosang’s comment through the earpiece.

“as far as i know it’s done us more good than bad. plus, it’s my job to be nosy, remember? we all get paid for things, and i get paid for sticking my nose up yall’s business.”

“wait you do that 24/7?” wooyoung frowned.

“uh, no. sometimes i don’t even intend to do it, ya’ll loud as fuck so sometimes i don’t even need the communicators. and i only comment on things that mean something. and before you ask this did not mean anything, i just wanted to join in the conversation.”

san snorted, “then why didn’t you just walk in here?”

“cus i’m busy right now.”

“doing what?” wooyoung grabbed san’s hand and played with his friend’s fingers.

“doing what i was not authorized to do—hack that wall.”

“won’t you get in trouble?”

“maybe,” the sound of him smacking his lips sounded, “but at least i won’t be given the silent treatment.”

wooyoung sat up. “yah! yeosang i will come down there and kick you!” when he heard no response he jumped off the cot and walked out the room, “yeosang i warned you!”

while hearing his best friend yell down the hall, san laughed. his attention returned to y/n who had his head tilted and a confused look on his face. “what’s wrong, hyung?”

“how...were you two talking to yeosang?” 

san hummed, smiling while tapping the clear earpiece in his ear. “we have them on unless we’re showering and sleeping or something. but when we’re on duty we have them on, speaking of that, i’ll tell jongho to get you one-”

y/n shook his hands in front of him as san was about to move, “you shouldn’t move too much, you might reopen a wound. i’ll call him…” y/n’s voice died down when he realized what he was volunteering to do.

at the sudden look of horror on y/n’s face, san laughed. 

“don’t worry, jongho’s just a buff teddy bear unless in danger. but for now, i’ll call him over.” san raised his hand to his earpiece, making y/n question why he couldn’t do that before. “jongho, can you bring an earpiece for y/n?”

san nodded when the younger agreed, saying he’ll be there shortly. he lowered his hand and rested it on his lap. “have you gotten along with anyone here yet?” he tried to spark conversation with the doctor, highly interested in him and feeling the need to know more about him.

“aside from yeosang, seonghwa and you, uh, not really. maybe yunho? i mean, he’s never showed any sign of hatred towards me so i guess we get along decent too...but i haven’t really had a chance to meet the others.”

the younger nodded, “well we may look tough and all, but i promise we’re all chill. hongjoong-hyung is only tough and straightforward when he’s on the lookout. just give him some time and you’ll see how nice and caring he is.”

y/n hummed, “i guess..”

“i have arrived with the product~” jongho smiled while walking inside the room, a box in hand. “once you put it on it will send yeosang a message and he’ll grant access to it.”

san watched jongho gesture y/n to grab it, but he took it before the doctor did. “here, i’ll put it in for you.”

jongho did his best to not snort or laugh, leaning against the wall instead. he watched san help y/n with setting up the earpiece, amused at how san seemed interested in the doctor.

“ok done, yeosang should grant access soon.” san smiled at y/n, the doctor returning it with his own.

a few minutes of quiet tension passed and jongho felt the need to do something; he pressed the button on the side of his earpiece. “yeosang-hyung, are you not going to-”

“give me a second, i just kicked wooyoung out. if he goes up there with a black eye don’t question it, he’ll say what happened without you asking.”

“you didn’t actually give him a black eye did you-”

“if he did then that can easily be taken care of…” y/n commented while watching jongho roll his eyes.

“yeah i did-”

“no he didn’t.” wooyoung butted in, it sounded like he was munching on something. “it was the other way around-”

san chuckled, shaking his head at his friend's bickering. he realized y/n’s earpiece was successfully connected when he saw the older grin. 

“i bet they both have a black eye.” y/n nodded to himself.

jongho rose a brow, a grin prominent on his features. “and how much are we betting?”

y/n hummed, “thirty bucks.”

“i wanna bet too~,” san grinned, “let’s check it out then. can i move now?”

“hmm...i’d say no but you probably wouldn’t really listen to me so... as long as you don’t make sharp movements.” 

san cheered, extending his free arm to get help in getting off the cot. “let’s go then!”

“hello?” 

“mrs. l/n! how are you? it’s heeseung...lim heeseung.”

the woman on the other end of the phone gasped in what sounded like happiness, “heeseung! It’s been a while since i last heard of you, is something wrong?”

the nurse leaned back into his couch, “well i called to ask if you've seen y/n…”

“i see...well we haven’t heard of him for quite some time now. we thought it was because of work you know? but you two are close aren’t you, i assumed you would know about his whereabouts”

heeseung sighs softly, “well we were close before we broke up...i called because he hasn’t appeared at work for almost two weeks now. everyone knows y/n is a workaholic so it’s rare for him to miss days. and i wanted to ask if i can go to the police and file a report.”

“have you checked his apartment? you do know where he lives right?”

“i do...”

“well if he isn’t there then yes, go to the police station. please let us know if you find anything!”

“of course, thank you.” heeseung smiled painfully to himself, bidding farewell to y/n’s mother before hanging up. soon after he turned off his phone and sighed, he really hopes y/n is at his apartment and only took a vacation.

y/n couldn’t help but bust out laughing when the three of them walked inside the kitchen. wooyoung did indeed have a black eye and so did yeosang. 

"darn it." jongho huffed as y/n ended up winning the bet.

seonghwa stood there confused, spatula in hand as he's setting out their plates for dinner.  "and what's this about?" 

san grinned, "we made a bet to see if yeosang and wooyoung gave each other a black eye or not. and luckily y/n ended up winning." 

"would that be called a doctors intuition?" yeosang rose a brow while glaring at the plates seonghwa handed him. 

"good question." y/n chuckled while walking up to the second oldest. "need help?" 

"oh, yeah, thanks." seonghwa smiled while gesturing to the drinks. "set them on the table, everyone will serve their own drinks."

"got it. oh, and after dinner, i'll need you two to come with me so we can take care of those shiners." 

“yeah yeah...”

[mrs-han]

Can I request Jumin coming across MC's letters/diary or something by accident and she's written about a guy and how he's soft and nice and caring etc and he surprisingly finds himself upset because he thinks it's about someone else but it's actually about him and how MC sees him through her eyes (maybe pre-relationship), thank you!

How am I finding these requests now??

RUDE.

~~~

Jumin didn't think anything of it.

At first.

Before you settled into his humble abode, you vehemently insisted on going back to Rika's apartment to fetch something. Jumin insisted that everything you could ever want - could ever need - was at your fingertips. But you refused.

Of course, he didn't want to pressure you - so he had his best driver take you back to the residence.

Jumin expected you to return with a suitcase or a backpack of some sort. Instead, you returned... with a leather journal.

You seemed slightly embarrassed about it, though he couldn't understand why. He felt ecstatic over the presumed fact that you trusted him enough to provide whatever it was you needed.

Even a brand new journal. But it wasn't too important.

"I take it everywhere," you blushed, hiding your pink cheeks behind the brown parchment. "It's like... my most trusted friend."

And, more than you knew, he could understand what you meant. He knew the joys of journaling and the discipline that came with it. 

But you certainly weren't lying. You carried the journal everywhere.

The first night you stayed over, he watched as you sat hunched on the bed, your journal in your lap. He waited for you to fall asleep, but you seemed far too engaged, your head buried deep in your book's pages. The ink pen you had politely asked him for was furiously wagging or making firm strikes.

Curious.

Jumin figured you were drawing - yes, an artist needs to express themselves.

But the next morning, he noticed you scribbling in the journal again. Seated at the kitchen island, you were... giggling and trying to hide your smile behind your fist.

"Good morning," Jumin smiled, his voice directly behind you.

"Jumin!!" You roared, slamming your journal shut. "G-Good morning! Do you want breakfast?! Let me make you breakfast!"

"There's no need... don't you remember me telling you last night that I'd be preparing breakfast?"

"Oh! Ah... haha! Aah... jeez, it is warm in here!"

Jumin stepped toward you. "If you'd like, I can adjust the temp —"

"No!!" You plucked your journal off the kitchen island, hugging it close to your bosom and earning you a befuddled stare from Jumin. "No, I can just... uh... excuse me!"

His eyes watched as you pranced down the hall to the bathroom.

Curious.

You always had the journal on your person. You'd take it with you to the couch, to the drawing-room, to bed - even while you bathed, Jumin noticed how it took an hour or more before he heard the water to the tub ran.

You scribbled more into it as if your life depended on how fast your delicate fingers could move. He had to admit that you were tempting him to purchase a journal for himself. Still, he wasn't artistically inclined, and he knew he'd ultimately end up using the new journal as a planner.

Still... your dedication to the creased leatherback made him... endlessly curious—even a little jealous.

Were you drawing? Writing? Simply scribbling? While he had started opening up to you, he realized you were a bit more hesitant to do so... perhaps you were writing letters to companions, letting them know how crazy he was...?

Or perhaps... you were writing letters to... another man...?

"Jumin?"

"Hm?" Jumin jumped slightly, snatched out of his reverie.

"Sorry," you smiled shyly. "I was thinking about taking up an offer of yours... I'd actually like to see what this building has to offer."

"Ah... that sounds like a splendid idea," Jumin smiled forcibly and reached over, pressing a code from his desk. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to accompany you. I'll have my bodyguards show you around. They should be outside as soon as you open the door."

"Oh," you mumbled, disappointed. "... Well, that's fine! I'll tell you all about my adventures!"

Jumin nodded. Me, or the journal. "I'm already looking forward to your return."

You blushed at his words and smiled goofily. "I'll see you later, then!"

"You will," Jumin beamed as you nervously and quickly left the penthouse. Just as soon as they had gone, his intrusive thoughts popped back into his mind - ideas of there possibly being someone else in your life.

"Wine," he grumbled, standing from his desk and slumping towards the kitchen. He was paranoid; that was a likely possibility. But as magnetic and charismatic as you were, there were undoubtedly several people who wanted to court you as much as he did.

Jumin rubbed the bridge of his nose after pouring and downing a glass of wine, the lack of sleep from watching you every night finally catching up with him. A fifteen-minute nap didn't sound so terrible.

He started to move towards the couch - when he noticed your opened journal on the kitchen island. He immediately averted his eyes and closed it delicately. You weren't far; he could still hand it to you.

Rushing towards the door, Jumin flung it open - and there you stood, your hand raised to knock.

"I forgot my —"

"Journal?" Jumin greeted, handing it to you.

You pressed the leather to your chest. "... Thank you, Jumin."

"I didn't look inside," Jumin frowned.

"I never said you did," you giggled. 

Jumin cleared his throat. "No, I would never invade your privacy. Or anyone's privacy, for that matter. Besides..." he sighed. "I recognize the importance of love letters."

Your brows furrowed. "Love letters? You think I'm... writing love letters?"

"It's a rather bold assumption, isn't it?" Jumin's hands fiddled restlessly with his sleeves. "Perhaps I was too hasty in assuming you would return my affections."

"A... Affections...?"

"This is very unlike me. To make assumptions without any evidence, that is," Jumin spoke, pacing about. "But I've seen you with that journal in your hands, and I've seen your dazzling smile directed at it... I can only assume at this point."

You stared blankly at him. The look in your eye was enough to stun him into silence.

"Jumin... have you considered that I've been writing about you?"

His heart skipped a beat. His face was flushed, he knew that was certain, and he turned away to regain any semblance of control. "Pardon me?"

You opened your journal and, like your favorite book-loving heroine, gently thrust it to Jumin's line of sight. "He is kind, though he doesn't think he is... meek, though he has everything... he keeps watching me, even now..."

Jumin's eyes darted before his curiosity ultimately won. "May I...?"

You moved the journal closer to him. "Is it possible for me to fall for someone so quickly...? He treats me like a queen... no, an empress... no, a goddess! He is always worried when he has so much on his plate... he is often checking up on me. He isn't rushing me into making a decision - whether I want to be in this relationship or not. He even told me the other day that he would wait for me, and I truly believe that he will respect my decision either way... and truthfully... I..."

Jumin's heart hammered in his chest. His eyes scanned the delicacy of your handwriting and... the trembling of your hands. His eyes found the words you failed to read aloud: I want him.

Your voice trembled as you peered at him. "My journal entries nowadays are all about you, Jumin. You've been on my mind since day one... all I've ever been writing about is you." 

They swept through him suddenly, blurring his vision; his emotions ravaged him relentlessly, and his thoughts began to run rampant. You could easily sense his uneasiness, and you immediately felt regret. "I'm sorry if this is too much so suddenly, Jumin -"

You were taken by surprise as Jumin wrapped his arms around you, crushing you against him in a hug. Your journal fell to the ground, but you didn't care to grab it. You could hear his heart thundering in his chest; you could feel his body growing warmer. Closing your eyes, you pressed yourself against Jumin and savored the wave of emotion that seemed to surround both of you. 

[colorseeingchick]

Crushing On You (Kirishima, Tamaki, Toyomitsu (Fat Gum))

Ion know bout y’all, but I consistently act weird around my crushes. That being said, I also can NEVER tell when someone has a crush on me (although I’m told its obvious). So let’s commemorate that, shall we? 

A/N: This one is dedicated to the lovely @kirislut​. She passively told me to write this and I was like yeah! And then proceeded to take 2 months to do it *sigh*. But yeah stan her or face my wrath >.<

Warnings: None! It’s fluffy. Y/N is written to match the age of the character (so a first year for Kiri, third year for Amajiki, late 20s for Fat). 

Kirishima Eijirou (xBruh!Y/N)

Kiri would be crushing on you for a long time before he even realizes he’s crushing on you. 

You would be a part of the Bakusquad,  and you also made an effort to stand up for yourself against Bakugou, and something about that really got to Kiri. 

You were somehow so *manly* while also so hot AND cute? Damn, how do you do it? 

Not that he understood that he saw you in such a light.  

Because Kiri doesn’t realize he has a crush on you, he wouldn’t necessarily be super blushy or flustered at first. 

When around you, he’s showering you in compliments.

When you aren’t around, he’s constantly bringing you up in conversation. Every conversation. With every single person. 

He would also team up with you to tease Bakugou.

And you already know that if anyone had anything negative to say about you, then he would stand up for you in a heartbeat. 

He really admired you, to say the least. He loved being around you. That was all (he thought).

That is, until the bros™ decided to give him a talk. 

“So..Y/N?” Is all Sero would say. 

And obviously Kiri smiled at your name, but didn’t know why they were bringing you up. 

“Are you gonna ask them out anytime soon? If you wait any longer I might just do it myself,” Kaminari tries to playfully nudge Kirishima into understanding. 

“Ask them out???” Kiri is now in shock! Because where did this come from!

That being said, his face also got as red as his hair, and the thought of you hugging him or staring back at him felt like a really pleasant idea all of a sudden. 

“Oi, shitty hair, don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own feelings. Are you really that much of an idiot?” Bakugou asks, his tone irritated and disinterested.

Although, he’s kinda invested in seeing you two get together at this point. The whole squad was. 

And then it hit the man like a truck. 

Shit! I have a crush on the coolest, strongest, most amazing person I know. 

After this point, he doesn’t know if he’s ready to ask you out yet. But he definitely starts acting differently. 

Usual shoulder leans and elbow nudges now make him feel like Kaminari was electrocuting him.. 

Any compliments you sent his way would cause Kiri.exe to stop working.

And your smile would make him feel starstruck. 

It was a breaking point when a school sponsored dance came around and you showed up looking like a WHOLE SNACK in the most elegant dress/tux/(whatever badass clothes you wanna be rockin). .

Kiri straight up would not look at you. He fully refused to turn his head in your direction, which was hard because the Bakusquad decided to spend the whole time there together, which meant he wasn’t leaving your side. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou was so confused (I mean same. Kiri THEY LOOK LIKE A SNACK why aren’t you basking in their glory jeez).

“SHHH Bakugou. It’s not manly to stare…” 

Kiri was worried that he would ogle you into discomfort, jaw dropped and eyes wide because his heart would burst upon looking at you for too long. 

In turning his head, he didn’t notice Kaminari and Sero approach you, whispering into your ear.

It was only when you came up and tapped him on his shoulder that he turned around and looked at you, you smiling at him. 

“Hey Kiri, do you wanna dance with me?”

Hey would pause, because he was really flustered, but then he would flash his huge toothy grin and gladly take your hand, pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with him into the night. 

BONUS: While dancing with you, Kiri would only look at your face and refused to look at your feet, causing him to stumble a couple of times. 

And naturally, you would ask him about it. 

He would blush but explain, “I didn’t want you to think that I was staring down at your body and making you uncomfortable…”  

WANDERING EYES ARE NOT MANLY! change Kiri’s mind. 

You would laugh and respond, “Hey, if you need to look at our feet to make sure we don’t trip, I don’t mind.”

But you would then pull close to him, wrapping one hand around his neck and speak quietly into his ear-

“And if you wanna look at the rest of me while you're at it, I wouldn’t mind that either.” 

Kiri.exe has stopped working once again. Good job Y/N! 

Amajiki Tamaki (xGentle!Y/N)

Tamaki would have a crush on you after being your friend for a little while. 

Like at first he was super nervous around you because people are nerve inducing and scary (I feel ya buddy its ok).

Over time though, you guys became closer friends. He realized how gentle and sweet you were.

You would spend a lot of time together, studying, going to get food, and training together.

You also would spend late nights together, especially when one of you was stressed or having a panic attack. You kept each other safe. 

It wasn’t a surprise to Tamaki when he found himself wanting to spend more time with you. 

It didn’t shock him that he loved looking into your eyes. 

He felt himself, and watched himself, fall in love with you. 

But despite that, he wasn’t really as awkward about it as you would expect him to be. 

Your entire relationship had been very wholesome and close from the start, and because he was aware of his feelings from the get go, there wasn’t any real shock. 

Ultimately, you were his safe space, and he would rather not compromise that by bringing his emotions into it. He was content to love you from a bit of a distance. 

In a non creepy way, he loved to watch you. He knows looking at people you love or feel safe with is a really good way to calm anxiety and ground yourself, and that’s what Tamaki does all the time with you. 

Just watch you work or eat and laugh. It was enough to keep him together. 

And the times you told him “I love you” made his heart soar, even if he knew it was platonic.

He also had a journal with writing in it, where he would write small notes or lines about his thoughts. Many were about you and how pretty you looked when you came to his room in PJs when you couldn’t sleep, or how happy you were when you down a bowl of ramen, or how-

You get the idea. 

 Though he was content with accepting his crush on you, nothing could have prepared him for how you found out. 

You both had been working together in his room. He was working on some homework while you were studying for your *least* favorite subject, math.

So you ask if you can see his notes to help you understand better.

“Yeah. It’s the first one on my shelf. Its the most recent pages.”

What he forgot was that he had moved it into his backpack and the nondescript notebook that sat first on his shelf was his journal. 

While he kept working, you opened to try and figure out how integrals worked, but instead were met with a cute doodle of your face with a heart next to it.

The line above it said, “On a cold day, y/n’s smile keeps me warm.”

It was oddly poetic, a lil sappy, insanely heart tingling but cOMPLETELY out of left field because- what? This was definitely NOT integrals.

“Tamaki, I don’t think this is the right book…”

He looks up and his face drops in horror as he sees you with his journal, your eyes dazed and unsure.

“O-oh! I’m s-s-so s-sorry I-”

He trips off his bed and runs right up to you, tugging the notebook out of your hand and pulling it to his chest. “This isn’t how I meant for you to f-f-find out I have a c-crush on you-u.” His eyes are glued to the floor. 

“...Tamaki, you have a crush on me?” You ask, in a calm (but very shocked) tone. 

His eyes shot up, wide, and he scrambled through the notebook to see what you read. It was just the doodle and one line, but if you had flipped a page back, you would have seen a long rambling explaining how much he liked you.

But, you didn’t flip a page back, and instead, Tamaki had 100% exposed himself. 

“Y/N I’m s-so so sorry you probably think that I’m a creep now I swear that I really value our friendship and I don’t mean to ruin it so you can just forget about this and-”

He went on for a while, lost in his words and slowly falling apart while you were trying to process what you heard. 

He had a crush on you too? What a relief. You wish you realized sooner! But better late than never right?

Now for how you were gonna calm him down.

On instinct, you wanted to jump on him and kiss him till he couldn’t breathe, but that would probably freak him out more than anything else. 

So you just do what feels right. 

“I really hope you don’t hate me or think I’m weird you just really make me feel complete and peaceful and I never meant to-”

You reach out and gently take hold of one of his hands, pulling it to your face, and softly kiss his knuckles. 

He stops rambling and looks like a deer in headlights as his face ignites into a bright red. 

“WHY DID YOU-” 

“Shhh.. Tamaki… I like you too, okay? I like you a lot. So please calm down.”

What a roller coaster for this poor boy. “Y-you don’t think I’m obsessed with you?”

“I don’t! Well, if you’re obsessed with me, I’m just as obsessed with you, so its okay!” 

You smile at him and he blushes, hiding his face into his shoulder, his hand still sweetly entangled with yours. 

“I, I’m glad,” he manages to get the words out after a few seconds.

For the first time in the history of your relationship, Tamaki was a flustered blushy mess with you. 

“Cmon Tamaki, we have more studying to do!!” You want him to mentally gather himself, so you take him back to his bed, hands still intertwined. 

BONUS: After failing at studying, Tamaki laid down on his bed and stared at the wall, failing to nap, while you were sitting at the foot of the bed.  

His mind was racing. 

“We like each other, but we haven’t talked about it since that moment… What if things are going to be awkward? I don’t want it to be what should I-”

The bed dipped down behind him and an arm snaked up around his torso. His back was pulled against your chest. 

“Is it okay if I take a nap with you, sweetheart?” You ask in a lazy and sleepy voice. 

His heart fluttered at the nickname. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m glad. I love you, Tamaki.” And with that, you nuzzle into his back and fall asleep. 

And with the feeling of your arms and your stable breathing, he realized you were still his safe space. And with that he was lulled to sleep. 

Toyomitsu Taishiro (x Foodie!Y/N)

You’re assigned to represent your agency for the team-up with Fat Gum’s agency.

When you rolled in, Fat Gum didn’t take much note of you at first. 

But when you intensely fawn over takoyaki during lunch break on the first day, he felt like his eyes were being reopened and he was seeing you for the first time. 

Love at first meal!

Though he initially found you attractive because he shares his love of food with you, he slowly found himself loving everything about you. 

You’re a lighthearted person, with a big heart and an even bigger appetite.

You brought a lot of joy, and that was energy Taishiro could never get enough of.

He knew he was a goner when one day were pranked by one of his Agency members, got caught off guard, and ended up jumping at him. 

He caught you and held you (cuz hero instincts obviously), and in that moment you couldn’t help but hug him out of fear (and because he’s SO CUDDLY REEEEEE).

But that’s enough for him to realize he wants to hold you more. And often. 

Yeah he’s whipped okay.

He definitely tries to keep it professional! And not *overtly* flirt with you.

But he brings you food literally 2 or 3 times a day. 

That may sound like a lot, but given its Fat Gum, it came off pretty innocuous at first.

He’s also really observant, so he picks up on what type of foods you really like. 

So he very often pulls up with your favorites, which always makes your day better. 

He also tries to give you some of his favorite foods, and days you like his favorites were the best. 

He was living his best life watching you be happy, even in a professional setting. 

Fat Gum finally came forward about his feelings for you after a mission went awry. 

It was supposed to be an information retrieval mission- simple get in get out. 

You, Fat, and Sun Eater were going to be working together. 

Fat would guard, Sun Eater would infiltrate and restrain, while you would obtain necessary documents.

That plan is sabotaged the moment you realized the League is also present- when they definitely were not supposed to be. 

Before you can process this shocking information, a knife is being plunged into your stomach. 

Toga smiles down at you- “pretty blood from a pretty person, I’m sorry I can’t help myself.”

She jumps back when Sun Eater sends an octopus arm at her. 

He grabs you in the process and pulls you back, where Fat is now standing by his side, eyes wide in horror. 

He takes you into his arms, and the last thing you feel is being held against his fluffiness before blacking out. 

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, Recovery Girl on one side of you, and Taishiro on the other, in his skinny form. 

Evidently, he had beaten most of the villains to a pulp, but the League had dipped before he could do much more damage. 

But after that, he had carried you to the ambulance and hasn’t left your side since. It’s been half a day. 

“Fat Gum…” 

“Hey do me a favor and call me Taishiro, okay?” He asks you very gently.

“Tai-shiro…” Oof his heart skipped a beat at hearing you say his name. 

“Taishiro, the mission…”

“Shhh it’s okay. There’s an interrogation of the villains that we captured going on right now, and Fourth Kind’s agency is following up on our leads. We did our job for now.”

“Are you okay? Amajiki-kun, is he okay?”

“We’re both fine. Some scratches on him, a lil fat lost for me, but we’re okay.”

“Taishiro...The agency, why are you here? You should be there running the ag-”

“I want to be here with you. That’s why I am here. I trust my assistants to cover for me right now.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I still don’t understand why…”

“Because I like you. I like you lots, Mx. L/N.  I know our relationship has been professional, but seeing you injured was something I didn’t…. I care a lot and I couldn’t find it in myself to leave you here alone. I hope our relationship can stay professional and friendly though, I really enjoy spending time with you.”

Recovery Girl looks back and forth between you two, eyeing your shocked face and his determined, serious one. 

“I’ll be back to check on you in an hour, Y/N. But I’ll leave you two alone for now ~~~” 

You paused, silent. The longer you stayed silent the faster his heart began to race. 

Suddenly, you sit up, placing weight on the heels of your palms. 

“Y/N you’re still injured what are you-”

It's your turn to cut him off, grabbing his jacket and yanking him towards you with your left hand.

Your right hand going to wrap around the back of his neck,

and your body falls back, 

Caught off guard, half standing, and balance lost, Fat’s upper body is now looming above yours, his hands planted on either side of you.

His eyes are wide, and your hands on the back of his neck are warm.

“I’m sorry, Taishiro… but I don’t want this relationship to stay just professional. So can I kiss you?”

His heart flutters, and his classic grin spreads across his face as he closes his eyes and let’s his face close the distance between you two. 

BONUS: You and Fat Gum decided that you didn’t want to tell people that you had started dating- the news would take it and make it a public affair. 

But you decided to leave it up in the air for your agency to figure out. They were your friends after all. 

The first to catch on was Amajiki, but he stayed quiet. 

But the new recruit Kirishima wasn’t as quiet about his suspicions. 

When he walked in to see you hug Fat Gum, he didn’t know how to react. 

You both seemed fine and acted as if hugging was a perfectly normal thing he shouldn’t be surprised by. 

You say goodbye and pat Kiri’s head on the way out. 

The last thing you heard was a loud scream, followed by a “Fat, you and Y/N are dating?” 

Yeah! Cat’s out of the bag.

[writingonscrappaper]

WIP Excerpt

I set out to write this story with the intent of creating a world where the well established ‘vampires and werewolves forever despise each other cause of arbitrary reason’ trope didn’t exist. In doing so, I ended up making the villain to my wolf shifter MC a vampire, whoops…

My reaction to this is to immediately add in a second vampire who is good friends with the other MC, allowing for positive interactions with to prove the were/vamp feud doesn’t exist and the hatred the shifter MC has for the villain is based on what he’s done, not who he is.

It took me less than a page of writing him before I became immensely attached to said second vampire and upgrade him from incidental tertiary character to best friend of the healer MC purely so I can have more chances to write him.

~~~~~

The unfairly handsome blonde that answered the door threw any and all rehearsed lines Rowan had prepared out the window. Blinking in surprise, she instinctively took a step back, glancing at the door to make sure she had the right apartment number.

His expression went from serious and intense to surprised, then offered her a frustratingly charming smile. As if he’d been expecting something on the other side of the door and was relieved to be wrong. The cool aura radiating off of him was very familiar, recognizing the feel of a vampire almost instinctively at this point.

“Ah… I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Hello, have you come here for healing?” He asked, which had her exhaling sharply in relief. She had the right apartment after all, good. Clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders and shoved the bag out at him.

“For Argent.” She stated in a short, clipped voice. “As thanks for healing me.” Her ears picked up movement in the apartment, and her fingers tightened around the bag as she watched Argent poke her head out from behind the brown eyed man.

“Rowan!” Argent practically cheered, tugging on the vampire’s sleeve. “Oscar, this is the shifter I was telling you about!”

Wait, she’d been talking about her?

“Oh, you mean the one you saved from the vampire you punched like an idiot?”

“Okay, how long am I going to have to put up with you giving me a hard time about this?”

“When you develop a sense of self preservation, so likely a very long time.”

Rowan stared, blinking once as she watched the two of them talk. This was obviously a well established relationship. One she was intruding in. He’d still been wary of her when he’d asked about the healing, but as soon as Argent said who she was, his demeanour had relaxed completely. Proving he trusted Argent’s judgement.

As Argent looked back at her once more, she shoved the bag out at them again. “Your clothes. From yesterday.” She said once more in a firm voice. Relief washed through her when Argent pushed past the vampire and took the bag, glad to have accomplished what she set out to do. “I, uh… Elias has gone to ground. I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

A disapproving sound came from the healer, catching Rowan off guard. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” She scolded. “I bet you spent the entire day running around, instead of giving your body a chance to rest.”

“Gee, that sounds familiar.” The vampire muttered, grunting as Argent whacked him in the chest without looking at him.

“Yeah, well… sorry I didn’t message you before I came over. I’ll keep you updated when I eventually figure out where Elias went.” Rowan muttered, shifting to take off before Argent opened the bag.

“Hang on, Elias is the name of the vampire you punched?” The question had the wolf pausing, and she glanced back at the vampire, who was now staring at Argent. Rowan watched a guilty look pass over the healer’s face as she peeked up at Oscar, who now had a disturbed expression on his face. Oh no… he knew Elias…

“You, ah… heard of him, then? Oh jeez, don’t tell me I punched vampire royalty or something.”

Seeing the grim look that formed on Oscar’s face wasn’t a comfort to either woman. “Not royalty, but if it’s who I’m thinking of… he’s well known to my clan, and most of the other vampires in this city. It’s gotten to the point that when we get wind he’s in town, nearly every available vampire goes on alert to make sure no poaching happens.”

“Poaching?” Argent asked, a worried look on her face now.

“Outsider vampire hunting on land a clan has claimed for themselves.” Rowan muttered, not looking surprised by any of this information. Oscar’s clan knew Elias, as did the other vampires here, to the point they closed rank as soon as he was in town… Fuck.

Doing her best not to react to the looks both of them gave her when she answered, she shoved her hand back through her hair. She wasn’t about to tell them why she was familiar with the term. “Which is why I need to get back out there. I just came by to return your clothes.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to do that.” Argent insisted, though she hugged the bag with a smile. Seeing her green eyes scan over what she’d put on had Rowan suddenly self conscious about her outfit, tugging at the cuffs of her leather coat. She hadn’t given much thought in what to wear, going with her usual preference of dark jeans and a random worn out t-shirt she’d grabbed from her busted dresser without looking.

And now here she was, standing in front of this irritatingly gorgeous vampire who was dressed in a beautiful suit that looked like it cost more than a year’s worth of Rowan’s rent. She found herself wishing she’d grabbed some nicer clothes.

It wasn’t helping that Argent was wearing what Rowan was assuming was more of her ‘comfy clothes’ and was looking frustratingly cute in them. It was just a loose t-shirt with the words “Bad Choices = Good Stories” and soft looking shorts, but the wolf felt flustered beyond belief. At least this assured her that the clothes she’d picked out for her would suit her…

“I can see why you’d want to give them back, though.” Argent added with a laugh, which broke Rowan from her spiralling thoughts, her grey eyes locking on her untied combat boots. “This aesthetic suits you way more.”

It took a second for Rowan to work out that she was complimenting her. She warily looked back up at the redhead, her fingers curling into the cuffs of her jacket.

“Leather and denim hold up better in fights.” She muttered, mortified to feel her cheeks getting hot as she saw the approval in Argent’s eyes as the other woman studied her clothes a bit more intently.

“That’s fair, I suppose.” Argent mused, tilting her head. “But, you know… I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re rocking the whole, ‘hardass punk going to a rock concert’ look, but shouldn’t you choose your clothes because you like them, not because they can take a lot of damage?” She asked, her gaze moving up slowly and stopping when she reached Rowan’s face, lighting up suddenly. “Oh, I didn’t see that before! It must have been because your hair was wet! And, you know… covered in blood.”

Rowan was confused until Argent gestured to the left side of her head. Immediately her hand went up and touched the chunk of white hair that stood out starkly against the rest of her dark waves, clearing her throat as she combed her fingers through it and pushed it back past her ear.

“Bad fight.” She muttered, gesturing to a thin scar that ran from the corner of her jaw up along the side of her head to her temple where the shock of white hair started.

The starry eyed look the redhead had shown at the streak of white shifted into a sympathetic one at the sight of the scar, and it almost pushed Rowan past her tolerance and she cleared her throat loudly as she turned away. “Right. Well…”

“Do you wanna come in?” Argent spoke up, the shifter freezing. Something she found herself doing a lot around this woman. “We’re in the middle of binging tv and were about to order in some food. You’re welcome to join us!”

Rowan’s grey eyes moved from Argent’s eager grin to Oscar’s patient smile, then shook her head, jamming her hands into the pockets of her brown coat. “No, I should… I gotta get back out there.” She muttered, taking a step back away from the two of them. “Wanna track down Elias.”

“Oh… alright, well… be sure to message me when the sun comes up.” Argent spoke up, causing Rowan to pause in the middle of her third attempt at bolting. “So I know Elias doesn’t… you know. And definitely call me if he does, and you need help.”

“…get some sleep.” She muttered, hunching her shoulders and doing her best to not run back to the stairs.

[mothandpidgeon]

THE SINS OF THE FATHER - a Molly York story PART 2

(gif by @pajamasecrets)

PROLOGUE - PART 1

MASTERLIST

Characters: Dave York, Molly York (Carol and Alice, too)

Words: 3500

Rating: T

Warnings: character death (canon), loss of a parent, angst, training your daughter to be an assassin?

Summary: After contacting a mysterious acquaintance of her later father's, Molly York learns more about the man. And about his death.

a/n: I'm a little obsessed with this fic right now. I love writing soft!Dave and his daughter. I know this isn't the mean daddy Dave smut we usually love, but I'd love to hear from you if you're enjoying this!

Thanks @purplepascal042 for helping me with this part! Love you, B!

/ / / / /

Dave is exhausted from jet lag, sprawled on the bed, still in his shirt and slacks. The last job took a lot out of him. He needs a shower but his body won’t budge.

“Daddy are you sleeping?” Molly asks from the doorway in a stage whisper.

“What’s going on?”

“Will you help me with my homework?” she asks. She’s clutching a worksheet and a pencil.

“Sure. Come here,” he says and she climbs onto the bed beside him. “What’ve we got?”

“I have to interview a grown up about their job. For Career Day,” she explains.

Dave looks over the page, his tired eyes barely focusing. “Did you ask Mommy to do this?”

“I want you to do it,” Molly insists.

He lets Molly read him each prompt and he answers as simply as possible. She dutifully writes down each answer in scrawling pencil.

“How do you spell ‘investigation?’” she asks.

“Sound it out,” he encourages. He’s so burnt, he’s not sure he can manage to spell it either.

“‘What is your favorite part about your job?’” she reads.

Dave sighs longer than he means to. “Coming home to my family.”

“No, Daddy! It has to be about work!”

The address Capra had given Molly was a boarded up movie theater off the highway about 30 miles outside of DC. Molly told Carol that she was shopping for dorm decor when she’d left the house full of nerves. She’d gotten so good at lying, sometimes she believed her own.

The parking lot was empty, the cracks in its pavement filled in with grass, punctuated by street lights every few yards. Molly had expected to meet at a coffee shop or a restaurant, not some out of the way place. She was sitting on the trunk of her car, her leg bouncing, when a black BMW pulled up. The woman driving it looked to be in her late 40s, her hair pulled back neatly. When she stepped out of her car, she pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed Molly up and down.

“How old are you now? 20?”

“18,” Molly told her.

“You’re the older one?”

“Yeah,” Molly said.

Capra approached her and she hopped down from the bumper.

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

Molly hesitated. She had her pepper spray in her back pocket and she was much younger, probably quicker than this woman. But Dad wouldn’t give her Capra’s number if he didn’t trust her. Still, Molly decided to lean against her car and keep her distance.

“You know a lot about me for a stranger,” Molly replied.

Capra grinned. She nodded her head back and said, “Walk with me.”

Molly paced the pavement with her, glancing at the woman beside her. She was slim with sharp features, whispers of frown lines in her face. Capra offered Molly a cigarette which she declined.

“Is Capra your first name?”

“It’s what my friends call me,” she replied.

There was a darkness in her tone that made Molly edgy.

“Did you work with my dad at the agency?” Molly asked.

That would explain some things. But Capra laughed.

“No.” Capra observed Molly and then her lip twitched up into a wistful smile. “Jeez I bet everybody tells you you look just like him.”

Molly’s stomach churned.

“Were you and my dad-”

“No,” Capra said. “God no. Your dad was...a complicated guy but not when it came to his family.”

Molly nodded, not sure if she felt relieved or if that just gave her more questions.

“So how did you know each other?” She asked.

“It’s a long story,” Capra said, scratching her forehead. “We did some freelance work together.”

Capra made some small talk, asking Molly where she was headed for college, what she’d be studying. Molly had so many questions of her own she could only manage short answers. Finally, she had to ask the question that had been nagging at her the loudest.

“Do you know what happened to my dad? How he died?” She’d stopped walking.

“I know the same as you,” Capra said.

“Which is?” Molly asked. She wasn’t going to accept such a vague answer.

Capra gave a wry smile. She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and twisted it into the pavement under her shoe. Molly’s heart sped up. She’d caught Capra in a lie.

“You’re a clever one,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Molly asked. She searched Capra’s face for an answer. “Please.”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.

“But you know. Please. I need to know.”

Molly felt like she was holding her breath. Capra looked away, then back at Molly.

“You don’t want to know,” Capra said.

“I do,” Molly said. She balled her hands into fists so she didn’t shake Capra by her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“How do you know that?” Molly spat. “What the hell do you know about him? I’ve never even heard of you. You don’t know.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty about your father you didn’t know,” Capra snapped back.

Molly was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Instead she let out a growl and turned back towards her car.

“Fuck this!” She stomped away.

She’d crossed half of the parking lot when she heard Capra call after her. Molly squared her shoulders, tried to compose herself, and turned around to glare at the woman. Capra was clutching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Finally she dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh and pulled out another cigarette. Capra lit it as she closed the distance between them, blowing smoke out of her mouth and shaking her head. She held the cigarette out to Molly.

“You’re going to want one of these. And you’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dave parks the car in the driveway. Molly is sitting in the passenger seat, still grinning from her first experience at the shooting range.

“Now remember,” Dave says before he opens the door, “this is our secret. So if Mom asks where we were, just tell her our cover story.”

She nods eagerly but then her lips twist into a thoughtful frown.

“It’s lying,” she says.

Dave feels guilty for a moment. Deceit is practically second nature for him but what kind of father teaches his daughter to be dishonest?

“But it’s a white lie,” she justifies to herself. “Right?”

Dave kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s alright, baby. Everybody has secrets.”

Molly felt dizzy. The story Capra told her made her feel like she’d gone from a tilt-a-whirl into a funhouse. Everything was distorted and she was upside down. Already, she was replaying her memories of Dad with this new context tinging them like a dark filter.

Dad kissing her on the forehead before bed. Hoisting her onto his shoulders on the 4th of July. Singing along to “Baba O’Riley” and drumming on the steering wheel. Dad killing people. Earning blood money. Dying by someone else’s hand.

“It’s a lot,” Capra said. They were sitting in Molly’s parked car, the windows rolled down, the sound of the highway traffic washing through like white noise. “But he did it for you.”

Molly’s eyes flicked to her. She hadn't asked for anybody to die.

“He was trying to take care of his family,” Capra clarified.

She let Molly sit in silence for a while as she sorted out what she’d just heard. Molly felt like she was grieving him all over again. Except this time she mourned the father she knew.

“My mom-"

“She never knew,” Capra said.

Molly nodded weakly.

“It was a secret because he loved you.”

Molly felt a tear slip from her eye. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She didn’t like feeling deceived. She wiped her face and set her jaw.

“What happened to Mac?” she asked.

She remembered meeting the man who had killed her father. Everything that had happened just before he died was so clear in her memory. She could still see Mac’s face, his friendly smile.

He’d seemed like such a nice guy. She remembered asking him a load of questions as he rode with them to school and he’d laughed and told Carol what a bright girl she was.

It sickened her to know he’d been right there. So close. And she was so small and clueless. Had Dad known what was coming?

“He lives up in New England,” Capra said. “Retired.”

Molly turned to Capra, anger burning in her chest.

“He’s still alive?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Capra said.

Molly looked back out the windshield, took a deep breath. Retired. Dad would never get to retire. Go golfing or build model cars or whatever old men did.

“And you do...what my dad did?” she asked.

Capra didn’t confirm or deny it.

“You can’t discuss this. With anyone,” she informed her.

Molly nodded again. She wouldn’t dream of telling Carol this. She would protect her from the truth just like dad had.

“I’m sorry about this,” Capra said before they parted ways. “You’ve got my number. Give me a call if you ever need anything.”

As Molly drove home, thoughts solidified in her mind.

Dad was a killer. But he’d been a killer before, in the Marines. He’d still loved her. He went to her karate matches and read her bedtime stories. She might have lived her whole life without ever finding out what Dave York really was.

If he hadn’t died.

He could have taught her how to drive. Taken photos before senior prom. Visited colleges with her.

He would have danced with her at her wedding. Helped her fix up her first home. Held her future children in his arms.

If he hadn’t been murdered.

And what about mom? She wouldn’t have worried about calling plumbers and taking her car to the mechanic. Run herself ragged getting Alice to dance class and Molly to archery competitions. She wouldn't have had to sleep alone every night.

If it hadn’t been for Robert McCall.

Molly could absolve her father’s sins. But Mac she would never forgive.

“Young lady, open this door right now,” Dave barks.

“You told me to go to my room! I’m in my room!” Molly snaps through her bedroom door.

She’s given Carol lip all morning and he’s had enough of the attitude. Every day, his sweet little girl is fading more and more into a stubborn teenager.

“You do not slam doors in this house.”

“Leave me alone!” Molly yells. “I hate you!”

Dave knows that she’s angry and she’s got a bad temper. That these outbursts are the first signs of puberty rearing its ugly head. But, still, her words punch him right in the gut.

“If that’s how you’re going to speak to your father, then you’re grounded,” he manages.

“Good!”

Molly had been reserved ever since Dave’s death but, after meeting Capra, she felt her melancholy harden into bitterness. She went through college. She didn’t make a lot of friends or date many people. She studied, she practiced her marksmanship, she trained.

As soon as Molly turned 18, she was back at the gun range. It had been a long time since Dad had taken her for target practice but she was pleasantly surprised by her grouping. She’d had a good teacher.

She liked everything about shooting. Not just because it had been a secret she shared with her father. She liked the ritual– loading the magazine, carefully picking up the gun. She liked the focus– taking a deep breath and looking down the barrel. She liked the power.

Mac’s grin stayed fixed in her mind. She thought about it when she pulled herself from bed at five in the morning to do push ups. She pictured it when she worked herself into a sweat at the gym’s punching bag. She imagined it when she put holes through the head of the target at the shooting range.

She didn’t think she’d have the chance to do that in real life. But she dreamed about it almost every night.

Molly had always stayed close to home but she visited less and less. Alice started college in New York so Carol had an empty nest. Molly could hardly bring herself to visit her mother anymore.

Molly had always been good at keeping secrets but this one was the most difficult. Every time she saw Carol, Molly imagined how devastated she would be if she knew the truth. It had become too painful pretending and so Molly simply avoided most situations where she would have to.

Capra stayed in touch, calling every so often to check in. It was clear to Molly that she felt responsible for this angst but there was no one else to talk to about it.

Some people were driven by ambition or lust or creativity. During college, it felt like Molly ran on anger. It helped her concentrate, to work hard. She graduated at the top of her class and had no trouble landing a job that paid well.

Adulthood was different.

Dave had been wise enough to set up trusts for the girls so Molly hadn’t racked up student debt. But now she had rent and bills and car insurance. She couldn’t stuff herself with fries from the dining hall and call that a meal. She had to work long hours for a demanding boss. She had to take care of herself. She had to go through the monotony of life.

When it came down to it, she just didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore.

Molly still held a flame inside. Mainly, she kicked herself for not getting to the gym more often. She hated that she was moving on. She had dulled as she got older, as she followed the news every day and saw that the world was a shitty place where justice was scarce.

Molly was in her childhood bedroom, going through layers of old school papers, polaroids from her friends’ bat mitzvahs, and certificates from karate tournaments like an archeological dig.

Carol was finally selling the family home. Downsizing. The girls were there to help clean things out, decide what should go to the Salvation Army and what would be going home with them.

It pained Molly to think about the house with another family living inside it. Even now in her late twenties, she still walked in the door and expected Dad to come around the corner from the kitchen, to say, “Hey, kiddo!” the way he used to. Once the house was sold, she would never experience that sensation again.

It was strange, Molly thought, how you could live somewhere for all of your life and then, one day, you’re locked out forever.

Carol was moving to a two bedroom condo closer to the city so she couldn’t take all of this junk with her. Molly packed a bankers box with some trophies and a few of her favorite books and brought it down to the kitchen.

Alice was leaned against the island, lazily sorting through cookbooks. Although the day called for packing boxes and hauling trash bags, she was dressed to the nines. Molly wondered if her sister owned casual clothes anymore. Alice had gotten a job at a fashion magazine and, although it seemed like she was low in the pecking order, she acted as though she was Anna Wintour herself.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Carol asked, eyeing the box.

Molly shrugged. She already had already taken the things that were most precious to her long ago.

“You know, Mom, if you don’t want to move, I can help you with the mortgage,” Molly said.

Molly had been saving up to buy a place of her own but she would happily give that up for her mother. Nowhere would ever feel like home the way this house did.

“It’s time,” Carol said. “I don’t need this much house to myself.”

Mom didn’t look her age but the bags under her eyes had grown more defined. She’d stopped coloring the streak of grey hair that had come in at her temple.

“It’s a good idea,” Alice jumped in. “Mom needs to get out there again. She hasn’t met any guys in the suburbs.”

The idea of Mom dating always made Molly bristle. She didn’t want Carol to be lonely but couldn’t picture her with a man who wasn’t Dad. The same way she couldn’t see her living in a different house.

“I’m going to work on the study,” Molly said and retreated to the home office.

This had been Dad’s room and, even though it had accumulated a mess of things over the years— old workout tapes, discarded hobbies, books about tidying— it still felt like his sanctuary. Molly picked through a shelf and found Dad’s high school yearbook. She hoped Mom wouldn’t mind if she took that home with her. She liked pictures of her father in his youth, skinny and bright eyed with scruffy hair.

Molly sat on the floor in front of the built-ins and fished out a few baskets and shoe boxes from the cabinets. The first one contained family photos. Vacation in the Bahamas, Alice’s 4th birthday party, Molly dressed as a ninja for Halloween. She went through each one with great ceremony. Molly already had a bunch of photos of her and Dad so she tucked these back in their box and put them in the ‘keep’ pile.

The next box was filled with cards. Sympathy cards. Molly sighed as she went into them. One from Carol’s coworkers with a rose on the front. Sending you comfort. A small card that looked like it had come with a floral arrangement from cousin John. He’ll be missed.

There was a card with a painting of a serene beach scene. With deepest sympathy. Molly opened it and read the short message.

So sorry for your loss. It feels like we’ve lost one of the family. Send my love to the girls. - Mac

The cold rage that had burnt out reignited in Molly’s stomach, her entire body so tight she almost shook. She could feel tears sting in her eyes.

That motherfucker. That fucking asshole had the audacity to send a sympathy card. To send his love. That piece of fucking shit. Molly almost crumpled the card in her hands, as if she could wring his neck through it, but just then Alice wandered in. Molly dropped the card into her lap.

“What are these?” her sister asked, crouching down and grabbing a photo. “Aw! You looked so cute!”

Molly swallowed hard and tried to slow her heart rate as Alice sifted through the pictures.

“Christ, why does Mom still have these?” Alice complained, picking up one of the sympathy cards.

“They’re for Dad,” Molly said.

“It’s not like he got to read them,” Alice replied.

She tossed it back onto the floor.

“Why are you always such a bitch about Dad?” Molly asked, the animosity she’d discovered in Mac’s card spilling out of her.

“Sorry I don’t worship him.” Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he was ever around. And when he was, he spent all of his time with you.”

Alice crossed her arms and looked away self-consciously. Molly felt a jab in her heart. She knew Dad loved Alice. He’d done awful things so that she could take dance lessons and go off to a good school where she could study whatever she liked. Things that eventually got him killed. But Molly couldn’t tell her sister any of that so she just stared at Alice with her mouth half open.

“Girls, when you’re finished up there, lunch is ready!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Call me a bitch…” Alice grumbled as she left the room.

Molly pushed the cards into the ‘Trash’ pile.

“Ow! Daddy! Molly hit me!” Alice whines.

“You hit me first!” Molly growls.

Dave glances at them in the rear view mirror.

“Is that true?” he asks.

“No!” Alice says.

He knows she’s lying. Molly’s sitting there with her arms crossed as Alice clutches her elbow dramatically, lips set in a pout.

He knows what he’s supposed to say. Some bullshit about being the bigger person, two wrongs don’t make a right. And if Carol was in the car maybe he would. But the world doesn’t work like that.

“If you hit somebody,” he warns, “don’t be surprised if they hit you back.”

Molly took Mac’s card with her. It was sitting on her passenger seat when she pulled away, Carol standing on the lawn, waving. Send my love to the girls. Every time she thought about it, she got so pissed off she wanted to puke.

She couldn’t even wait to get home before she was dialing Capra, one hand gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

“What’s up, kid?” Capra asked.

“I need to find Mac.”

/ / / / / part three soon!

@pascalslittlebrat @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @originallaura @tuskens-mando @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @goddessinwolfskin @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @stevie75 @evyiione @buckwildbarnes @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @silverwolf319 @killermonkeys45 @velia27 @anxiousandboujee @amneris21 @green-socks @pedro4ever @pedrocentric @kesskirata

[kookiebunnii]

lucky in love || min yoongi

→ summary: you didn’t expect to start your day with an arrow to the heart, quite literally, but neither did you expect to meet cupid himself. quickly realizing that you aren’t dramatically falling in love from the effects of cupid’s arrow, the two of you unexpectedly team up to solve this curious dilemma. however, at the end of it all, what if cupid is the one falling in love?

→ pairing: cupid!yoongi x reader

→ genre: roman/greek mythology au, fluff 

→ word count: 6.6k

→ warnings: mature language

→ a/n: this is sort of a half-gift to myself and @cinnaminsvga​, the author who actually inspired me to write again. i just hit 200 followers, and i guess i also wanted zee to know that her works definitely motivate and inspire others!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡     

Sitting in your armchair, embroidering little white carnations into the hem of the wedding dress in your hands, you truly thought that you couldn’t be any more content. This particular order had recently prompted the idea of “love” into your mind whenever you worked, as your customer had practically beamed with excitement when talking about her fiancée. Although your family and friends seemingly had your relationship status on the forefront of their minds, it wasn’t something you chose to fret about. You’d had your fair share of boyfriends, men you enjoyed spending time with and even one you thought about a “happily ever after” with. But of course, your career and independent personality typically got in the way.

It had led to heartaches and internal turmoil early on in your life, but now you were a freelancer, a fashion designer making clothes from your apartment. It wasn’t the most luxurious life imaginable, but it was the life you wanted. You were able to do what you loved while helping others. Romantic love just wasn’t on this week’s to-do list...orders were.

You set the piece down and slowly rotate your wrists to chase the stiffness away from your joints. Taking a sip of your chamomile tea, you watch as the horizon outside your window lights the buildings aglow with an orange and pink hue. The colors are beautiful, and you’re briefly inspired. Heading to your workbench in the room next to you, you grab your pocket notebook and scribble down the colors you see outside. You always wrote little notes in this particular journal, hoping to use it for your own creative works someday if not for a future customer’s order. Examining the words “pink, orange, yellow blending” in your casual scrawl, you flip to previous pages to reread your past bouts of inspiration.

You sigh, knowing that this wedding dress was your last big order for the month. Perhaps you now have enough time and funds saved up to work on something for yourself next week.

Your discarded cell phone on the couch begins beeping incessantly, so you set your notebook back down and skirt over to check what it’s for. You make a small sound of happiness, remembering that you had ordered Thai food for dinner tonight. Taking off your work apron and hanging it on a hook in your office, you find the warmest coat you own before rushing out the door.

Weather these days is like a finicky child who can’t make up his mind. In the daylight you’d have to pull on a t-shirt and a long skirt to fully appreciate the rare breezes that danced through the open windows. However, after sunset, temperatures could drop quite steeply. You’re reminded of this again when you’re forced to tuck your hands into your pockets and tell yourself to hurry.

The street is lit with soft lamplight and despite the cold and hunger resting in your belly, the artist in you can’t help but appreciate how beautiful this sight is as well. Round circles of yellow going from intense to faded against a midnight blue backdrop fill your thoughts. It’s so distracting that you almost walk past your destination without realizing.

Quickly backpedaling a few steps, you head into Thai Us Together—you must give the owners credit for their pun-tastic name—and greet the familiar worker at the front desk. She engages you in some polite conversation before handing you your usual order and bidding you goodbye.

It’s only when you are a few steps away from the entrance to your apartment complex that you are hit in the chest by an arrow.

You realize this not because you feel any sort of pain from the attack, but because a translucent arrow radiating a pinkish glow is now visibly protruding from your front. Firmly planted above your ribs, you’re momentarily at a loss. Perhaps any normal person would be screaming in terror, but you just stare, wide-eyed, wondering if you were dreaming. Things never got this crazy in your dreams though.

“Why isn’t it working?”

You blink and suddenly there’s a dark-haired, pale-faced man in front of you. He doesn’t look much older than you, as he stands in front of you with his arms crossed. Frowning in discontent, he stares in the direction of your chest unabashedly and you feel that you have the right to be more than a little offended.

“Um, hello? My eyes are up here.”

When his eyes finally find yours, they’re filled with shock with a little bit of fear mixed in. You almost wonder if you’d grown a second head or something, with the way he was staring at you.

“You can see me?” he asks, pointing at himself as you roll your eyes in response.

“Who else is staring at my chest around here? Yes, you.”

The boy starts laughing, his gums showing cutely in response to your curt reply. You can feel your cheeks warming as you wonder whether your statement deserved to be received with this much amusement.

“You’re a funny one,” he finally notes, before a worried expression takes over his features again, “But you’re human aren’t you? You shouldn’t be able to see me.”

You adjust your takeout in your hands before resting a hand on your hip, “Well, I see you very clearly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have pad thai to enjoy and an arrow to the heart to deal with.”

He grabs your arm, and the touch is so palpable that you know now that you’re definitely not dreaming. You turn to meet the stranger’s gaze again, and the curiosity filling his brown eyes is undeniable.

“You see the arrow too?” he whispers in awe, gesturing to the faint but very noticeable projectile still lodged in your front.

Sighing, you say, “Okay at least I’m not hallucinating this then. Look, I need to try and get this thing out and get to my dinner. If you don’t have any suggestions on how to remove arrows that don’t even feel like they’re actually there, then I suggest you head home.”

He follows you through the gate, matching your hurried steps with ease until you finally snap and turn on him. He almost bumps into you as a result of your sudden halt but quickly readjusts himself and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

After a short glaring contest, he gives you a small smile with a glint in his eye, “I know exactly how to get that out. In fact, I was the one who shot it.”

 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡    

 Maybe all these years of living alone has finally dulled your warning senses to the point where you were fine letting dangerous strangers into your home. You’d always been too trusting of a person, but you felt too tired and confused to put up much of a fight tonight anyways. You just wanted to enjoy one of your favorite noodle dishes and get rid of whatever black magic was involved in this painless arrow buried inside you. If it meant inviting a random puzzling but handsome individual into your abode, then so be it.

As you dig into your meal, you watch as your guest sips on his glass of water. He had denied your offer of food, but you could at least say you were a polite host. With your stomach now appeased, you take your own gulp of water before launching into an interrogation.

“Who are you?” you ask.

He tilts his head, observing you for what feels like the seventh time that day. Finally, he leans back in his seat in thought. The silence permeates your residence for a good minute before he finally utters, “I’m Cupid, God of desire, attraction, and affection.”

You stop mid-chew to openly gawk at the black-haired male in front of you. This boy, dressed in a large hoodie and ripped jeans, is supposed to be the fat baby featured on Valentine’s Day cards? Maybe you brought a crackhead into your home.

“I know what you’re thinking. You mortals have ruined my image recently and as a result I am no longer receiving the respect I deserve,” he purses his lips before setting his water glass aside and openly observing you again, “But I am in fact Cupid.

“Okay let’s say you are Cupid or whatever and you shot me. Doesn’t this mean I’m supposed to fall in love now or something? I don’t feel anything other than a desire to finish the rest of this delicious pad thai.”

He doesn’t even smile at your attempt at lighthearted humor, instead wrinkling his brow further at your words.

“That is rather curious.”

Fiddling with a stray bean sprout on your plate, you add, “Well, could we start with removing this first?”

He finally gives you an amused grin when you gesture to the faint outline of an arrow above your ribs, which appears to be growing increasingly hard to see as time passes. Maybe you are finally going off the deep end.

“It’ll disappear soon,” and as soon as the words leave his lips, the arrow has faded entirely. He turns slightly, and a quiver suddenly appears on his back. You count 11 arrows before another slowly fills the remaining empty spot to complete the final dozen.

Your jaw is practically on the floor at this display.

“I need to figure out why this is happening,” he muses, resting his chin on his hand and training his unwavering gaze on you once again.

Jeez, you were starting to feel like an exhibit at the zoo.

“Look, as much as I appreciate meeting a god, I have work to do and a deadline to meet. I’m sure this is very fascinating, but frankly I’d rather not fall in love anyways so I’m quite glad this didn’t work,” you stand up to set your cleared dish in the sink before heading for the door to escort him out.

“Why not?” he asks, as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever not want to be in love.

You turn after undoing the lock at your door to find that he still hasn’t budged from his chair. Clearly not on the same page as you are, you saunter over to him and do your best to give him a menacing look, “I’m happy the way I am. Now are you leaving?”

You definitely weren’t usually this rude, but the amalgamation of your anxiety to get back to work and the confusion of trying to understand what was happening to you made for a deadly combo. Today’s events were definitely giving you a short fuse. If this offends him, Cupid sure doesn’t show it, because he just gives you a small tilt of his lips before heading to your kitchen to wash his empty cup.

You watch, mystified, as he sets his cup on the drying rack before washing the plate you had left in the sink earlier. At this point you rush forward, embarrassed, but he simply shakes the excess water off the plate before leaving it next to his discarded cup. You thought Cupid was supposed to be mischievous, and maybe this guy was, but he was definitely going out of his way to be nice to you.

“Thanks” you mumble halfheartedly, suddenly feeling a bit regretful that you were trying your damnedest to shoo him out earlier.

He chuckles, drying his hands on your teacloth hanging nearby before asking, “Can I ask you some questions?”

Deciding that no ill-natured person would go through the trouble of washing your dishes before murdering you, you lead him to your living room where you were previously working on embroidery. The wedding dress is still resting on the arm of the chair you previously occupied, so you briefly excuse yourself to move the large piece back to your workspace.

When you come back, he seems to be running his tongue against the inside of his cheek in thought. It distracts you for a bit until he finally asks, “Are you getting married?”

Sputtering with a bright fuchsia across your cheekbones, you quickly reply, “No! No, it’s an order for a customer. I’m a designer.”

He sighs in relief, “Thank Zeus, I honestly thought I had lost all of my powers including my sense. Maybe it’s just my arrows that are faulty.”

When he notices how you’re looking at him quizzically, he kindly explains, “Usually, getting hit with my arrow means you fall in love with the person I’ve assigned. For some reason that clearly hasn’t happened for you. Besides, you’re definitely not supposed to see me or my arrows unless I will it to happen.”

You frown, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you think. If this dark-haired boy is to be trusted, was there actually something wrong with you? Additionally, who had he chosen for you? Maybe if it was meant to be and all that jazz, you could just have Cupid introduce the two of you and he can be on his way. That’d be much simpler than trying to wrap your head around the idea that Roman Gods existed.

“Who’s the person?”

He smirks, appearing to be amused at your shy remark, “Mortals are simple creatures. It matters more whether your significant other is as good-looking as you imagined than the possibility that something is very wrong with you.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. Besides, you could just wingman me with the guy you picked and then go back to shooting people for fun. You’re acting like the end of the world is coming.”

Lounging on your couch, he grabs one of the decorative pillows next to him and begins playing with the loose strands like an easily entertained cat. You sit down next to him, grabbing the other cushion to hold in your arms for security while he exhales in disappointment.

“It’s not that easy. This isn’t something that’s supposed to happen,” he admits, tossing the pillow aside and training his eyes on you.

“Well, you could always ask one of your fellow gods, right? Isn’t your mom Venus or something? I’m sure she has plenty of experience in the love department,” you suggest, wondering if you were being too gullible by accepting and participating in his fantastical stories.

He scoffs, “If she knew about you, she’d just tell me to kill you.”

“Okay so we won’t be asking her for help under any circumstances. Got it.”

He laughs again, and you can’t help but crack a smile of your own. Maybe in another world, if he just happened to be a random boy you bumped into one day, you’d actually want to be friends with him. But in your reality, he was supposed to be a god. If your lessons in Roman mythology meant anything, humans should probably fear those like him instead of inviting them into their one-bedroom apartments.

“You’re probably one of the more amusing mortals I’ve met recently,” he grins, “Do you still want to know who I chose for you?”

Heart racing, it was as if you could feel your pulse thrumming in anticipation. Wasn’t this what every person wanted? To know who they would end up with, to know who they were supposed to love until their last breath? Even if you were a self-declared non-romantic, the idea was still interesting. Its appeal was still undeniable, even if it wasn’t a priority for you.

But then you hesitated, wondering if it was beneficial for you to even know this. Did you like the idea of this cheeky boy just randomly selecting a guy for you? Maybe free will was just an illusion, but how would you even go about your life if you knew that you were supposed to be with someone—no alternatives? That kind of pressure just didn’t float your boat at all.

“Never mind actually. It’s probably better if you don’t tell me.”

This statement surprises him, because he actually leans forward to rest his palm against your forehead with a concerned expression on his features. Up close, you can see the pretty faint freckles across the bridge of his nose and the small speckles of gold in his irises. No, this boy is definitely not human.

“What happened to Y/N?” he jokes, laughing when you brush his hand away to look at him with a frown.

“Look, it doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Besides, now I can pick who I want to be with without your ministrations being a part of it,” you huff, crossing your arms.

Smirking, you can see the mischievousness lighting up his eyes at your words, “And how will you know that the man you’ve ‘picked’ isn’t just someone else I’ve chosen to hit you through the heart with?”

You don’t respond at his teasing question which causes your guest to lean back once again with satisfaction. If he really was the omnipotent entity he claimed to be, you guess you wouldn’t really know if you liked someone out of your own volition. At least you could now pin the blame of being with some of your past exes as a result of Cupid’s interference and not your lack of good judgment.

“I’m going to have to monitor you for a few days. I’ll head back to Olympus every once in a while, seeing if I can find any answers for this oddity. If anything strange happens, just call for me.”

You pull out your cell on instinct, and he laughs while taking the device and slipping it back into your pocket. Instead, he takes your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together as if you were praying.

“You want me to pray to you and you’ll just show up?” you ask incredulously, trying hard to ignore the way you could feel the blood rushing to your head at his warm touch against the backs of your hands.

He nods, “It’s how it used to be, back when you all believed in us. I’ll be off now. See you tomorrow.”

One second, he’s there and the next he’s not. Standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, fingers interlocked, you could genuinely convince yourself that you had just had an extremely hyper realistic dream. Unfortunately, the lingering heat of his hold on you remains undeniable.

 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡    

 Enjoying the tart taste spreading across your tongue from your homemade lemon tea, you set your glass down before admiring the semi-finished piece in front of you. You had set the wedding dress onto a mannequin in your studio after completing the final details to better observe the overall look. You need to pull in the waist a bit more and fix the neckline, so you step forward to remove the dress and get to work again.

“It looks nice.”

The sudden words cause you to almost trip over your own feet and you have no choice but to grab your mannequin for balance. Cupid chuckles from behind you, and you glance at him wide-eyed long enough to catch what look like wings folding behind his back before they disappear.

“Hello,” you squeak, surprised at his random entrance after leaving you alone for two days.

“You’re quite talented for someone who designs and makes the pieces herself,” he muses, stepping closer to you to catch the fabric of the lace sleeve in his fingertips.

“It’s nothing really. I’m just a decent option for someone looking for something original and unique, I suppose.”

He tilts your chin up to look at him and the motion sends an entire series of shockwaves through your system. No one had been this close to you in a long time, so maybe you were just reacting because of the unfamiliarity. 

Yeah, that’s probably what it was.

Cupid hesitates, as if he had lost his train of thought, before quickly recovering, “Give yourself more credit, love.”

Pulling away from you, he leans back against your workbench with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. Shaking the bangs away from his eyes, he says, “Do you feel any different?”

“No. I had half the mind that I just dreamt the whole thing,” you reply, finally letting go of the mannequin and stepping towards your desk to find some thread and a sewing needle.

He hums in thought, watching your movements as he says, “I haven’t had much luck either. I went to Vulcan, asked him if he could look at my arrows. He said they were in good working order but replaced a few of them anyways at my request.”

“Vulcan? Is that Hephaestus’s Roman name?”

“Yes, I wonder why Greek names are more familiar to you. Perhaps schooling is different nowadays,” he comments, watching as you take a seat across from him and begin making your adjustments.

“If it’s any consolation, they do look shinier than before,” you tease, pointing at the quiver appearing on his back.

He gives you an amused chuckle, pulling out one of the arrows to examine it from its point to the sleek feathers at its very end. When it finally disappears from his hands to return to its home on his back, he quips, “Are you sure you’re not a demigod?”

The question catches you off guard for sure, but you decide to play his game anyways, and think back to your parents. Did they ever do anything that seemed…otherworldly? Did they seem like the type of people to run off and have a tryst with some Olympian god or goddess?

Haha, definitely not.

You shake your head, giggling at the possibility since you knew your parents very well. He takes your answer with a nod and continues looking out towards the large window at the scene outside. The sky is a pale blue today with fluffy white clouds gliding by with ease. You were almost done with this order, and you planned to ship it to your customer this weekend. Maybe you’d enjoy a picnic outside to celebrate afterwards.

“Do you…have another name that you use? Calling you Cupid just seems weird. I still can’t get the name to disassociate from the image of a chubby winged baby in my head.”

He takes your question seriously, a trait you notice by the way he’s seemingly lost in thought. You wait patiently though, continuing to work on your methodical stiches as he ponders.

“Yoongi,” he finally says, appearing satisfied.

“Yoongi? That’s an interesting choice,” you reply, feeling the way this new name rolled off your tongue.

“It was the name of a mortal I knew. I quite like it.”

You accept his choice, finishing your alteration on the neckline and deciding to call it a day. You’ll spend the next few days attaching the sequins, which was bound to be an exhausting task. Just as you’re about to set the dress back on your trusty mannequin, the sound of glass breaking causes you to scream.

A creature seemingly out of your worst nightmares crawls through the windowpane, flames of fire spilling from its mouth. You can’t help but cling onto the back of Yoongi’s sweatshirt once he backs up against you in a defensive stance. The monster looks like a lion from the front, but you notice what appears to be a snake lazily dancing back and forth from where its tail ought to be. Oh, and was that the head of a goat sticking out from its back?

You never thought about how you would die, but this sure wasn’t at the top of your list.

“Fuck, why is this here?” Yoongi growls, and the deep sound that resonates from his chest makes you tighten your fingers on him.

“What is it?” you ask, but the way your voice is compressed in fear barely lets the words escape from your lips. It seems to ignore Cupid altogether, the blazing coals it calls eyes refusing to look away from your fearful expression.

He ignores your question, instead sweeping you off your feet and uttering, “Hold on tight” before skirting around the edge of the room with the creature hot on his heels. You don’t need to be told twice, immediately ducking your head into his shoulder, trying your best to ignore the way the beast sounded dangerously close. When you finally dare to open your eyes, Yoongi has ducked through the gaping hole where your window once was with his hand on the back of your head. He looks down at you briefly before jumping off the ledge.

Your scream sticks in your throat, as you feel the pit of your stomach fall alongside your body. A second later however, the two of you are gliding upwards as if flying. The buildings are a blur with how fast you are going, so you opt to just close your eyes and keep a locked grip on your savior. Even though you had no clue where you were being taken, you sure as hell weren’t about to return to your apartment even if it hadn’t turned into a pile of ashes by now.

When Yoongi finally stops, it feels like an eternity has passed, and your head is so dizzy that you’re forced to lean against a tree for support. As you try to keep the contents of your stomach from making an appearance, you make out the blurry form of your new friend pacing back and forth with his hair a mess. He is very clearly stressed, so you shift to grip the side of his pant leg when he paces closer to you.

“We’re fine now,” you mumble, tugging him closer. You hope he sits down so you could lean your head on his shoulder. It was starting to get chilly and you want to get ahold of whatever warmth was currently available.

Perhaps he can read your mind too because he kneels in the grass in front of you and fixes the locks of hair plastered to your clammy skin. He doesn’t seem the least bit grossed out, instead having what looks like worry in those odd eyes of his.

“I can’t believe you’re reassuring me when I’m pretty sure you would’ve died if I weren’t there.”

The words bring you back to reality as you shudder uncontrollably. You definitely would’ve died. That thing looked like it could rip you in two if it truly wanted to, and you weren’t exactly skilled in self-defense. Maybe you were too dumb to realize the danger of the current situation, but you were more concerned by the fact that Yoongi looked deathly afraid.

“Was that something from…your world?” you ask, grateful for the gentle grasp Yoongi had on your wrists. It comforted you knowing that you weren’t alone in this chaos.

“That was a chimera. Our worlds are essentially one and the same, but yes, creatures like that usually don’t just stop by for a house party,” he grunts, shifting so he can sit in front of you with his legs splayed to corner you against the tree.

You still have your legs pulled against your chest, so you lean your cheek against your knees as you regard him intently. He didn’t look anything like a god, and if you saw Yoongi walking on the street you probably wouldn’t have given him a second look. This whole ordeal balanced on the edge of surreal, but you were sure now that with whatever just happened, you were in danger. You wish the arrow worked on you earlier. You would’ve fell in love with some random person but at least you wouldn’t be fearing for your life. Maybe you wouldn’t have met the living embodiment of attraction, but you would’ve been back to normalcy. Isn’t that well worth it?

Struggling to understand why your heart hesitated at the possibility of never meeting Yoongi, you’re barely aware that he is pulling you to your feet until he has an arm wrapped around your waist to support your weak form.

“Can you stand?” he asks, and his fingers feel like they are burning against your side. Even through your sweater, you clearly feel each indent against your skin.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you give him your best attempt at a smile, following him as he walks you further into the forest. Thankfully, he eventually lets you go when he’s assured that you can walk without passing out. His proximity was doing crazy things to your senses, so you are grateful that he let you process your experiences without distraction.

He’s led you to an inconspicuous cave whose entrance is covered by a few hanging willow branches. He brushes these aside before letting you crawl in. The inside is surprisingly dry and you finally take a seat on a smooth, protruding boulder in the corner to stretch your legs out from the trek.

“It’s not a 5-star hotel, but it should do for now. You’ll be safe here until I find out what’s going in,” he says, and in the darkness you can barely make out his form in front of you.

Snapping his fingers, a fire appears in front of you. As you realize that this fire appears to be without a fuel source, you are once again forced to accept that your life is never going to be the same. Hesitantly reaching out to warm your shaking fingers against the heat, you watch as the light of the flickering flames dance across Yoongi’s face. He looks worried and concerned for you, so you can’t help but look away.

Your hands itch for your notebook, but you simply make a mental note to yourself instead: fire and shadows, a golden-eyed boy, warmth.

At this point, he takes off his hoodie and you can’t help the way your eyes immediately dart to the sliver of skin that shows at his waist when his t-shirt rises alongside his movements. When Yoongi finally emerges, a hand running through his locks, you hope that the heat you’re feeling is only from the fire.

He wraps the garment around your shoulders before tying the sleeves around your arms without a word. Taking one last look at you, he lets his touch linger for a second too long against your thigh before he stands to take his leave. This time, you keep your eyes trained on his as he begins to slowly dissipate. You tell yourself that you won’t blink because as long as you’re looking, he can’t leave. Your weary gaze finally betrays you, and when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡    

 Turns out you wouldn’t have to worry about food, because every couple of hours, you’d magically find some food appearing by the fire Yoongi had made for you. Your phone had long since died, so you weren’t even sure what day it was. Using the appearance of the regular meals to gage the passing of time, you hoped that Cupid would come back for you soon. Your customer’s order would be due soon anyways. At this, you couldn’t help but giggle when you realized how much your commitments meant to you-- even if you were on the verge of getting eaten by a lion hybrid.

It appears that Yoongi had been more observant that you gave him credit for. Every meal, he has only given you pad thai with the ingredients you ordered the night you met him. It was cute how he went with something he knew you liked, likely worried that he could choose something you were allergic to or disliked. He did alternate between cool lemon tea in the mornings and warm chamomile tea in the evenings, but you are sure you won’t be ordering thai food for a long time after you get out of here.

Just as you finish the last of your tea while pondering actually praying to him to get him to show up, Yoongi appears before you. Without a second thought, you scramble up to give him a hug. It seems that even for a god, he doesn’t expect this. Your tackle causes him to briefly lose his balance.

“Easy there,” he laughs, his deep voice mixing beautifully with his laughter as it echoes against his chest.

“Sorry,” you fumble, pulling away quickly and wondering if mortals were allowed to be hugging Roman Gods.

“Have you been alright?” he asks, ruffling your hair fondly with a smile.

You hum in agreement, relishing the way his fingers felt tugging against your locks, “Might need to take a break from pad thai for a while though.”

Chuckling, he extinguishes the fire with a wave of his hand before tugging you out of the cave. The sudden sunlight causes you cover your eyes, gripping his sleeve instead to guide you as you walk. Instead, he carries you in his arms once again before flying off to god-knows-where. At this point, you simply submit in his hold, as you trust him enough as the only person who knew better than you did at the moment.

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he has brought you to your apartment, and even more pleased to find that your window has been returned to its original state. In fact, everything inside remains perfectly undisturbed.

“How’d we get in if the window is fixed?” you ask, pressing your fingertips against the glass to ensure that it was indeed repaired.

“I stopped by before the chimera appeared without having to bust your windows open, if you remember,” he teases, pulling the curtains aside to let in some light.

“Fair enough.”

You immediately head inside to ensure that the wedding dress was still in your office. You let a relieved sigh escape your lips when you notice it resting happily on your mannequin in the corner, looking as perfect as before.

“Y/N, we need to talk about something,” Yoongi says, pulling out a chair and straddling it as he watches you work with the bag of sequins you prepared earlier for this project.

“What’s up?” you ask, already getting back to work by sewing each individual sparkle into the layers of fabric.

“The chimera from earlier, it was sent by someone.”

His words cause your hand to falter, but you remind yourself that you have to make up for lost time, so you continue working furiously.

“Who have I angered?” you ask, trying to keep the concern out of your tone.

Cupid sighs, and when he finally replies, you’re forced to drop the dress entirely.

“Venus? So, she found out about me?” you bite your lip to stop it from trembling under this revelation.

He grips your hands in his own now that yours are no longer busy with working. The emotions swirling in his gaze allows the weird feelings to return to your heart once again. When he makes a request of you, you can’t help but take notice of the way he’s practically begging.

“Y/N, please let me protect you. I can take you somewhere she’ll never find you. We can be together, and you’ll be safe for the rest of your life. I promise.”

Of course, the offer is tempting. You aren’t sure if it’s the confusing feelings you’re beginning to develop for him or if he’s working some sort of love magic on you, but you actually consider his proposition for a good second or two. But eventually, the dazzle of the pearl white dress on your workbench breaks you out of your reverie. Did you want to spend the rest of your life in hiding? Would you still be able to do what you loved? Would you still be able to see your family and friends?

“I can’t,” you reply, giving him a sad smile and a small squeeze with your hands. You can’t accept the hurt on his face, so you go back to work so you can focus on the shiny beads on the waistline of the dress instead.

“I can’t let you die.”

His voice sounds so broken, so lost, so defeated that you almost didn’t recognize its owner. Brushing aside the wetness suddenly flowing across your cheeks as a result of his words and your own fear, you try your best not to let your tears fall onto your customer’s order.

“Y/N please. Look at me?” Yoongi begs, and when you risk a look at him, the tear clinging to edge of his waterline finally rolls down his cheek.

When you realize you’re kissing him, the first thought that manages to form is that his lips are so soft. It’s like you pressed your mouth against a carefree cloud, or some bright pink cotton candy based on the gentle sweetness that slowly begins spreading throughout your body. His cheeks are damp, and you can’t help but whisper “please, don’t cry” against his lips. His laugh mixes with a sob, as he tightens his grip on your waist.

You pull back, and for a second you forget that the man before you is an all-powerful god. As he sits in front of you, brushing your tears away with the pads of his thumbs, he is simply a soft-hearted boy crying over imagining a tomorrow without you. You wonder momentarily if it were possible for him to fall in love, because you were already beginning to feel the rush of falling.

“Am I crazy for liking you?” he chuckles, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer were written there, “I make others fall in love for the shits and giggles, and now I’m the butt of the joke.”

“How did I attract a god?” you muse, pinching his cheeks for your own personal enjoyment.

Yoongi falls back into his thoughts again, and you once again wait patiently for him to form his words. You were willing to wait, because you knew that when he finally spoke, it meant that he had truly considered each and every word he uttered.

“You’re witty. You love to crack jokes, especially when the situation turns awkward. It’s endearing, so much so that I just want to kiss the satisfied grin off your mouth. You’re hardworking and talented, placing the needs of others before your own. You commit yourself to your job, creating art as if it’s second nature. Even after your life gets hit with a whole shitstorm, you work on a wedding dress someone else ordered and tell me not to cry.”

A laugh escapes you as a desperate attempt to cover the fact that you’re certain you are as red as a cherry tomato and that you have the sudden urge to kiss Yoongi again.

The two of you decide to enjoy the simple happiness you feel with your newfound feelings for as long as you can without discussing Venus again. Once again, you find yourself working on the silky fabric of a bride-to-be’s wedding dress in your armchair in the living room. Except this time, Cupid has his arms wrapped around you as you sit in his lap. The two of you watch the sunset together after you decide to take a break, and he massages your wrists for you.

“I don’t want to hide, Yoongi.”

He makes a small noise acknowledging your words, seemingly more invested in nuzzling the exposed skin at the crook of your neck. You pinch his thigh to get his attention before continuing, “I can’t live like that. I’d rather die doing what I loved and enjoying every moment than being locked away somewhere—even if I were with you. Does that make sense?”

“Of course, my stubborn Y/N. I’ll do my best to keep you safe from her nevertheless.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shift in your seat so you can finally look at your brown-haired boy with surprise. You almost regret this decision, because the amount of adoration pouring from the personification of affection himself is almost too much for your mortal self to handle.

“I’m your Y/N now?”

He chuckles, smoothing out your furrowed brow with the tips of his fingers, each stroke leaving a lingering trail of warmth against your skin.

“Are you forgetting the vow I just gave you? A god just promised to protect you, mortal. Have some decorum.”

You frown, feeling too foolishly emboldened to be stopped now.

“Yeah well the witty, hardworking, and talented mortal just asked you a question,” you say smartly, playing with the strands of hair at the edge of his ear.

The golden stars in Yoongi’s eyes seem to shine brighter than before as he says, “For as long as you’ll have me. I’ll love you.”

♡ 

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: well. everybody. are we surprised??????? i dont write a thing for like months but then i get inspiration and here i am✨✨ also im not gonna lie... this fic is a lil bit ooc. v much for gray. its believable but like BARELY. so BASICALLY if u dont read fairy tail 100 years quest, this might not make a whole lotta sense to u, but i think youll be able to follow! SO! this fic is based off of the gruvia interactions in the latest fairy tail 100 years quest chapter! chapter 63!!! enjoy my beautiful ppl!:)❤️❤️❤️

*

Without missing a beat, Juvia launched herself at her darling Gray. “Ahh...” She lulled with great relief. “It’s so good to see you safe, Gray-sama.”

Her arms naturally wrapped around his neck as she sweetly nuzzled her face right into his. The two of them were certainly beat up from their battle with Metro, and they had the bandages wrapped around themselves from head-to-toe to proove it. Yet, naturally, Juvia didn’t mind. Her body was achey, sure, but all she could feel was warmth from her overwhelming love for Gray.

She felt Gray’s muscles soften. He brought his hand up to the top of her head, bringing her into the crook of his neck, and he followed her lead by resting his cheek atop her head. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Juvia safe and acting like her normal self. After finally getting a moment to breathe, this was the first time in a long time he was really seeing Juvia where they weren’t fighting or she wasn’t partially brainwashed by Touka. It was nice to see her back to being unequivocally Juvia.

“You too.” Was all he replied, but that was all he needed to say.

Gray could hear the gasps going around the guild at the sight of he and Juvia, but he paid it no mind.

“Ok tiger, think you could maybe put some pants on?” Cana’s call to Gray was what finally snapped him out of it.

“Gah! My pants!” He exclaimed, flustered, breaking from his embrace with Juvia.

“They’re right here, darling!” Juvia quickly gathered his clothes. Naturally, she was always keeping track.

“Thanks.” He snatched them. He snapped his attention to his number one rival, and pointed at him. “Natsu, as soon as I get these back on, I’m kicking your ass!” He shouted.

“Eh?!” He responded. “Why me?!”

“Because you got to have all the fun taking down a dragon! Now I want a piece of you!” He taunted. He couldn’t deny that the combination of a couple beers, and the adrenaline rush from another Fairy Tail victory, was amping Gray up, to say the least.

“Bring it on!” Natsu grinned, and began cracking his knuckles.

Before they knew it, a bunch of the guys were rolling around like wild animals. You would’ve never thought they just faced one of the biggest battles of their lives, but, well, that was Fairy Tail.

“Get em’, Gray-sama!” Juvia cheered on, energetically, just as he swung a punch at Gajeel.

Juvia went back to the bar to get some more drinks, and Gray was shortly behind her. “Aw man.” He flopped onto the seat beside Juvia, out of breath. “Those guys don’t mess around in a fight. Even when we’re already beaten to a pulp.” Gray snickered. He did love a good fight, but he couldn’t deny his body was tired.

Juvia hummed a giggle. “The same can be said for you. Juvia saw you throwing some solid punches.” She handed him a beer.

“Did you expect anything less?” Gray playfully smirked at Juvia, causing her to blush just a tad.

“Of course not.” She grinned.

“Lucy!” Gray shouted, and as he did so, he casually brought his arm around Juvia, placing a hand on her shoulder as they both sat. Juvia was really blushing now. She sat still and silent, afraid of ruining the moment.

Gray continued once Lucy turned to him. “Why don’t you give Natsu some of that booze? Maybe that would take him off his game and I could kick his sorry ass in one shot!” He joked.

The hand still weighed heavy on Juvia’s shoulder. Did Gray place it there by accident? Did he know what he was doing? Maybe he just needed her so he could keep his balance? Or maybe he was cold and wanted Juvia to keep him warm?

Natsu perked up “Give me all the booze in the world! I’ll still kick your ass!” Just as he said that, Elfman came up from behind him, and slammed his body to the ground. Gray and Juvia both laughed.

“Leave it to Natsu to pick a fight with just about anyone.” He snorted, but Juvia couldn’t pay much attention to what Gray was saying at the moment.

He casually brought his hand down for just a moment, and just as Juvia’s mind rolled with questions as to what he could possibly be doing now, she was given an answer. He softly took a lock of her hair in his hand, and ever so lightly stroked it. Juvia was frozen in happiness. She didn’t dare turn her head, but she did see Gray out of the corner of her eye, and he simply took a gulp of his beer, without seeming to mind at all that he was doing something completely and utterly unlike him—public affection. However, he was unbothered. He continued rhythmically running his fingers through her hair as if this was the most normal thing in the world to him.

“Maybe I’m bias, but beer is better when Mira’s serving it at the guild.” He said to Juvia as he looked curiously at his beer. While saying this, he even began to twirl a piece of hair between his fingers. The way her heart fluttered with each flip of his fingers was something she’d never felt, but wow— what a feeling. Unfortunately, Juvia could not hold back this reaction as shivers were sent all over her body rather noticeabley.

“You ok?” Gray stopped the hair stroking, and brought his palm to the middle of her back, still seemingly putting forth an effort to touch her, and he looked over at her.

“Y-yes!” Juvia jolted. “Juvia is fine!”

“You sure?” He raised a brow. “You seem a little tense.”

“No! Honestly! Juvia is completely fine, just a bit caught off guard is all!” She was starting to break a sweat. Leave it to her to screw up a moment.

“How so?” He finally pulled the hand away, to Juvia’s dismay.

“W-well...” She fiddled with her thumbs. “It-it’s just that... Gray-sama... was playing with Juvia’s hair, a-and you had your arm around me—and— Juvia was just surprised, that’s all!”

“Oh.” Gray was the one who was a bit stunned this time. His cheeks turned bright red, and he couldn’t help but look away.

Honestly, he really wasn’t even aware that he was doing that until Juvia pointed it out. He was taken aback by himself, admittedly. It wasn’t like him to be a hands-on type of guy. However, what he did know, was now that he knew he wasn’t touching her, he felt a desire to touch her more than ever. It was like once he knew she wasn’t in his grasp, a piece of himself felt lost. He wanted his arm around her. He wanted to feel her soft blue waves run through his fingers. He wanted to feel her warm embrace in his arms. So, even though he didn’t make a conscious effort to be physical, it was what he wanted. He wanted to feel her, and thus feel comfort. Feel serenity. Feel happiness.

“But, it’s ok!” Juvia leaned towards him. “Juvia didn’t mind at all! Not one bit! Oh, Juvia is so sorry! She’s insulted Gray-sama! As an apology, you may touch Juvia wherever you want!” She stood up and proudly spread her arms and puffed her chest, displaying herself for Gray.

Gray’s whole face burned fiercely. “Ah, jeez, would you sit down!” He snapped, and he took Juvia by her shoulders, putting her back in her seat.

“Juvia is sorry!” She exclaimed. “It’s just that, it’s not like Gray-sama to show any sort of affection in public! Juvia doesn’t know how to act!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Gray nervously scratched the back of his head. “I dunno’, it’s just that, well, after so many of these fights and always putting our lives on the line, it’s just hard to believe we’ve made it this far. On top of that, seeing all my comrades safe and...” He paused. “Seeing you safe after all of this... it just makes me feel so relieved. And, well, basically, I’ve come to realize that life is short.” He looked down. “Really short. And, I don’t wanna waste time worrying about stupid stuff. I just wanna’ do what’ll make me happy.”

He finally locked eyes with Juvia. “And you make me happy.”

Tears rushed to her stunned eyes. “Oh, Gray-sama!” She threw herself onto him all over again. He reciprocated almost instantly, placing a hand on her back. She looked back up at him, eyes glazed with tears. “You make Juvia happy too.” She smiled gently.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Gray smirked, and then he brought Juvia back into his hold. They were both where they belonged- safe, and in each other’s arms.

As Juvia rested against his chest, she felt a comforting sensation that was already so familiar to her: Gray combing his fingers ever so gently through her long hair.

[cryingcow]

Character Story - Mine [RGGO]

I feel like i just wrote an entire MineDai pre-relationship fanfic with the word count on this >_< There’s a section in Mine’s wiki page about the “The Man Called Yoshitaka Mine” event. I’m pretty sure this takes place after that one, because Mine makes references to things Daigo said when they first met.

When it comes to idioms, I decided to leave in the ones that don’t sound too different from their English counterparts as is. The others I just tried to reword (it took a lot of googling to figure them out lol). Also, please note that anything I write before the chapter starts is shit I made up, don’t take them as facts XD

Story: Mine, Chairman of the Hakuho Clan, meets up with Sixth Chairman Dojima. He then goes out for drinks with his boss, loses him in a public toilet, and ends up saving the day with his inherent skepticism that Daigo could be sleeping with a woman (either because our boy Mine’s gaydar is on point, or he believes that the words “Daigo” and “get laid” could never occur in the same sentence).

Mine: (I wish I could be his friend so he could smile at me like that . . . but it seems I am fated to only know him as the Sixth Chairman . . .)

Daigo: “Hey Mine wanna get some drinks together?”

Mine: :O

.

CHAPTER 1

.

[Tojo Headquarters]

Driver: “Well, Chairman Mine. This is where you get off.”

Mine: “Ah.”

Mine: (Today’s my meeting with Chairman Dojima. Heh. I’ve really gotten far.)

Mine: “Hm? That’s . . .”

{Daigo walks by, talking to someone on the phone.}

Mine: “Is that Chairman Dojima? He seems to be on the phone with someone.”

Daigo: “Hahaha. It’s hard work. But I’m fine.”

Telephone voice: “But Daigo-san. Ever since becoming chairman, you’ve become a distant person!”

Daigo: “What, would you like to come visit the Tojo Headquarters next time? It’s full of yakuza . . .”

Telephone voice: “No way! Just treat me to some cabarets and soaplands!”

Daigo: “Idiot, use your own money! Ha ha ha!”

Mine: (. . . Is the other party on the phone a friend of Chairman Dojima? . . . From what I heard, Chairman Dojima was playing around with his friends in the city before he assumed the position of Sixth Chairman. Must be a friend from that time period. I thought he was strict, but it seems he can make that kind of expression . . . to a friend . . .)

Daigo: “Oh, Mine. You’re here.”

Mine: “It’s nice to meet you, Chairman.”

----

[Tojo HQ – Chairman’s Office]

Daigo: “. . . That’s all for today. Good luck from now on.”

Mine: “Yes. I will live up to your expectations.”

Mine: (By exchanging a cup with him, you entrust your life . . . It seems that I may only know this person as the Sixth Chairman . . .)

Daigo: “Hm? What is it, Mine? What’s wrong?”

Mine: “. . . no. It’s nothing. Excuse me.”

Daigo: “Really?”

Mine: (Now I have to fulfill my duties faithfully. To be Chairman Dojima’s . . . the Tojo Clan’s backbone.)

Daigo: “. . . Wait. Mine. Are you free tonight?”

Mine: “Tonight? I don’t have any plans . . .”

Daigo: “Then, do you want to go out for drinks?”

Mine: “Eh?”

Daigo: “It’s late, but consider it a celebration of the direct promotion of the Hakuho Clan. In addition, I’ve never had a drink with you yet.”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “How about it? I know a good place.”

Mine: “. . . Yeah. I’ll be happy to.”

----

[Champion District]

Mine: (. . . no way. To receive an invitation from Chairman Dojima . . . I’m in trouble. What do I even talk about . . .)

{Off to the side, a thug and a yakuza are yelling and fighting.}

Mine: (Jeez. It’s a noisy town. The Chairman will arrive anytime now.)

{The thug and the yakuza keep fighting. The yakuza shoves the thug, and he bumps into Mine.}

Mine: “. . . ku!”

Thug: “What are you standing around there for!”

Mine: “. . . If you two are having a dispute, can you do it elsewhere?”

Thug: “We can have disputes wherever we want!”

Mine: “. . . You’re an eyesore. Scraps.”

Yakuza: “Scraps?”

Mine: “Yeah. Garbage. Messy trash dirtying the Chairman’s path. The Chairman will feel uncomfortable with guys like you around. Get lost now.”

Yakuza: “What part of it don’t you understand! We’re not going anywhere!”

Mine: “I guess it can’t be helped then. I’ll have to announce the Chairman’s arrival before he comes. Bring it on, scraps!”

{Mine takes care of the garbage.}

Mine: “Hn. Not so mouthy now.”

Daigo’s voice: “I think they’ve had enough, Mine.”

Mine: “Chairman Dojima . . .”

Daigo: “Did I keep you waiting?”

Mine: “No . . . I just arrived myself. Even so, a place like this? There’s a lot to be said about the location, the security . . .”

Daigo: “This is my favorite bar. When it comes to drinking, this is the best place.”

Mine: “Is that so . . . hm?”

Bodyguards: “. . .”

Daigo: “They’re coming along while we drink. Those guys are at work, don’t mind them.”

Mine: “I don’t have a problem. This is for the safety of Chairman Dojima.”

Mine: (Now, since I was invited, I have to be enthusiastic . . . It’s time to forget my daily duties and just enjoy myself tonight.)

----

[Bar that might be Shellac unless it’s just reused assets]

Daigo: “Fuu. I finally got a drink. I can’t do without this.”

Mine: “. . . Chairman Dojima, you seem tired. Are the Chairman’s duties difficult?”

Daigo: “Ah, it’s very hard. For days it seems I’ve done nothing but work.”

{A couple overhears and starts whispering near them. The woman wonders what Daigo is a chairman of, but the man says he’s probably no one important.}

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “. . . Hey, Mine. Why are you calling me Chairman Dojima today? It’s too stiff.”

Mine: “Sorry. I didn’t realize. Then . . . Daigo-san. That’s what I’ll call you.”

Daigo: “Ah, that’s fine.”

Daigo: “You know . . . the Fourth Chairman Kiryu-san’s existence is far greater than I thought. It seems even among those who don’t openly oppose, many are still dissatisfied with my appointment as Sixth Chairman.”

Mine: (Kiryu Kazuma . . . his name will always come up when you talk with Daigo-san . . .)

Mine: “That person, Kiryu, to Daigo-san . . . is he like your aniki?”

Daigo: “Aniki? . . .That’s right, something like that. I can’t express it in one word. But family, no . . . he may be more than that.”

Mine: (More than family? Something that far?)

Daigo: “That person is now running an orphanage in Okinawa. There, he seems to be living in peace with his new family.”

Mine: “An orphanage . . .”

Daigo: “Life in Okinawa is the peace he finally got. I want to protect it, whatever happens . . .”

Mine: (For Daigo-san to declare as much . . . Kiryu Kazuma . . . must be quite the man.)

----

|2 hours later . . .|

Daigo: “Hahaha! Kanda’s face at the time must have been a masterpiece.”

Mine: “Yeah! Once my anger passed, I was amazed. He had a face like a sumo wrestler’s after I hit it.”

Daigo: “Ha-Hahaha! Su-Sumo wrestler-!”

Mine: (It seems he’s having fun. This is nice . . .)

Daigo: “By the way, Mine. Are you a private person? When it comes to friends . . .”

Mine: “Eh? Private? Me? . . . Hm? A phone?”

{A phone goes off with a notification.}

Daigo: “O-oh. It looks like I got . . . an email . . .”

Mine: “. . . !”

Mine: (What? Daigo-san’s face . . . is turning pale . . .)

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: “What’s wrong?”

Daigo: “. . . N-no. It’s not a big deal. It’s my work email. Good grief, they must be bored. I don’t usually get emails at times like this.”

Bodyguards: “. . .”

Mine: (Daigo-san looks upset. Who did the email come from?)

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 2

.

[Bar]

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: (Daigo-san. Since that email arrived, he’s been acting strange. He keeps looking at the time, and acting like he doesn’t want to be here anymore. Who did that email come from?)

Mine: “. . . Um. Daigo-san, are you okay? Your complexion looks bad.”

Daigo: “No, it’s fine. I just feel a little sick.”

Mine: (Are you hiding something?)

{There’s a commotion outside. Two yakuza brothers are trying to enter the bar, but Bodyguard A says monkeys like them aren’t allowed inside. They get into a fight.}

Bodyguard B: “Sounds like trouble outside. I’ll go help.”

Mine: (Not again. It really is a noisy town.)

Daigo: “. . . Now’s my chance.”

Mine: “Eh?”

Daigo: “Mine, actually there’s something I need to tell you . . . I need to get out of here alone.”

Mine: “Get . . . out?”

Daigo: “Lately, my bodyguards have been hanging around all the time, and I’m getting sick of it. They even follow me to the toilet . . . I can’t even stretch out my wings. That’s why I want to be alone for once and take a break.”

Mine: (. . . he wants to be alone? What do I say to that?)

Mine: “By any chance . . . does the content of the email you received have something to do with this?”

Daigo: “! . . . No Mine, it’s not like that. As I said . . .”

Mine: (He keeps glancing around the place. What is it?)

Mine: “. . . understood.”

Daigo: “So you’ll let me go?!”

Mine: “Yeah. It’s likely you’ll still try to leave even if I say no. However . . . please let me accompany you. As your bodyguard.”

Daigo: “Wh-what? You too?”

Mine: “It is expected that as the Sixth Chairman, you cannot be walking around alone. ‘I will accompany you as a bodyguard’ . . . that’s the last oath your subordinates swear by.”

Daigo: “. . . Alright. Then come along with me. We should be able to get out through the back door.”

Mine: (Daigo-san’s expression when he received the email is no small matter . . . When it’s just the two of us outside, maybe then he’ll tell me what’s going on.)

Middle-aged Man: “. . .”

----

[Children’s Park]

Daigo: “Fuu. Somehow I found it.”

Mine: “. . . Daigo-san, what are you doing? You said you wanted to stretch out your wings.”

Daigo: “. . . Ah, that’s right . . . I felt like wanting to move my body somewhere.”

Mine: “If so, there’s a batting center nearby. How about that?”

Daigo: “A-Ah, that’s great! It’s been a while, I feel like hitting some balls!”

Mine: “. . . By the way, Daigo-san. About the email earlier . . .”

Daigo: “!”

Mine: “Are you hiding something from me? If you’re in trouble, I might be able to help.”

Daigo: “. . . . . . No, it’s a personal problem. It’s not something I should be telling you.”

Mine: “But . . .”

Daigo: “. . . . . . Mine, I understand your concern. From my position, it seems I am always threatened by danger to my person. I don’t know what or when it will happen. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow’s safety.”

Mine: “Daigo-san?��

Daigo: “. . . No, it’s a long story. Don’t worry about it. Well, you said the batting center, right? It’s been a while. Mine, will you join me?”

Mine: “Yeah. I’ll take you up on that.”

Mine: (Daigo-san is still hiding something. But, why won’t he tell me?)

Daigo: “. . . Don’t get cold, Mine. I’m going to the toilet.”

Mine: “Understood. I’ll be standing guard right here in front, so take your time.”

Daigo: “I’ll be right back.”

{Daigo enters the public toilets. Mine takes his position by the exit. A few minutes pass.}

Mine: “. . . . . . . . . he’s taking his time . . . unless . . .”

{Mine rushes to the toilets.}

Mine: “Not here . . .! He’s gone! Did he go out through the window?! He took his chance the moment he was alone! Fuck, what do I do . . .”

----

[Children’s Park]

Bodyguard A: “Ah! You!”

Mine: “Tch! At a time like this . . . !”

Bodyguard A: “Where is Chairman Dojima?!”

Mine: “. . . I don’t know. I’m also looking for him.”

Bodyguard A: “You’re lying! Did you bring him outside?!”

Bodyguard B: “You, no way . . . did you plan to kidnap Chairman Dojima all along?”

Mine: “Kidnap? You idiot, why would I?”

Bodyguard B: “Until recently, you were a regular man. You might be a spy sent by an enemy organization.”

Mine: “That’s a stupid idea. Right now we need to-“

Bodyguard A: “Whatever. If you don’t plan on spitting out the Chairman’s whereabouts, would you like us to make you talk?!”

Mine: “Tch. I guess it can’t be helped.”

{Mine beats the shit out of Daigo’s bodyguards.}

Bodyguard A: “Fu . . . ck . . . so strong . . .”

Bodyguard B: “Stupid. We are the elite . . .”

Mine: “Fuck! Get out of the way! Daigo-san . . .”

----

[West Shichifuku Street]

Mine: “Not here . . . Where?!”

Barker: “Nii-san, Onee-chan, why not come have fun at our place?”

Mine: “A barker? No, not right . . . now . . . wait, are you always working in this area?”

Barker: “Eh? That’s correct, why?”

Mine: “Did a man in his mid-thirties with black hair, a black suit, and a good physique pass by here?”

Barker: “Yeah, he did.”

Mine: “What?! Do you know where he went?”

Barker: “Where he went . . . I think he took a taxi somewhere.”

Mine: “Taxi?”

Barker: “Yeah. He was joined by a young and beautiful Onee-chan.”

Mine: “Eh? O-Onee-chan?”

Bodyguard A: “So . . . a woman.”

Mine: “!”

Bodyguard B: “I thought he was acting funny when he received the email at the bar. That ‘I’ve done it’ face. It seems that he missed a promised meetup with the woman.”

Mine: “Then, Daigo-san wanted to be alone . . .”

Bodyguard A: “Because he has a secret rendezvous. With who, I don’t know.”

Mine: “Somehow found . . .”

Bodyguard A: “A bad boy is attractive to a woman. Besides his money and his status, he’s also handsome.”

Mine: “. . . he said he wanted to move his body . . .”

Bodyguard B: “Heh. It’s nice to have a great time.”

Bodyguard A: “It can’t be helped. You should call it a night. You had a hard time too.”

Mine: “Stupid . . .”

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 3

.

[West Shichifuku Street]

Mine: “Did Daigo-san go somewhere in a taxi? And with a young woman?”

Bodyguard A: “Chairman Dojima is unmarried, has money, and he’s handsome. It’s no wonder he’s popular. Right now, he’s probably with a model or an actress.”

Bodyguard B: “He should be careful not to get involved in a scandal.”

Bodyguard A: “Now, let’s head back. You should go home too.”

Mine: “. . .”

----

Daigo: “. . .”

Thug Leader: “As promised, did you come alone?”

Daigo: “Yeah. My faithful subordinate tried to follow me, but I left without telling him where I went. I made him think I was secretly meeting with a woman.”

Thug Leader: “. . . Is that right. Did you bring the money?”

Daigo: “Yeah.”

{Daigo hands over a bag. The leader unzips it to reveal cash.}

Thug Leader: “. . . Everything seems to be here.”

Daigo: “Will you keep your end of the bargain?”

Thug Leader: “Yeah. Don’t lay a hand on Kiryu Kazuma. He’ll be living in peace in Okinawa from now on.”

Daigo: “. . .”

Thug Leader: “Even so, that Kiryu person must be really important to you.  . . . Is he your weak point?”

Daigo: “. . . What are you trying to say?”

Thug Leader: “It’s amazing that the Tojo Clan’s Sixth Chairman can be lured out over one person.”

Daigo: “What?”

Thug Leader: “You still don’t get it? I’m saying this time it’s your turn to be the hostage!! Stupid! The aim was to get you all alone from the very beginning! If we kidnap you, we’ll get far more ransom money!”

Daigo: “Fuck . . .”

Man’s voice: “So . . . it was all for Kiryu-san. I figured that would be the case.”

Daigo: “Mi-Mine?”

Mine: “Daigo-san, I had a hard time looking for you.”

Daigo: “Why are you here?”

Mine: “You think you can get away with such an obvious lie? . . . That barker, you paid him off.”

Daigo: “But he didn’t know about this place . . .”

Mine: “. . . Yeah. There are countless taxi companies in Kamurocho. Too many candidates to question where you went. And those guys won’t give out customer information, saying it’s ‘personal information’. So it couldn’t be helped. I had to resort to buying the taxis off. When that didn’t work, I bought off the taxi companies. When you become a stakeholder, you gain access to customers’ information.”

Daigo: “You did that for each company?”

Mine: “It took hundreds of millions. Heh. It was a huge expense.”

Daigo: “Mine . . . Why did you go so far . . . just for me?”

Mine: “. . . Daigo-san. I’ve shared a cup with you. That’s not something I take halfheartedly. I’m ready to sacrifice everything just for you. Forever and always. There are absolute bonds in the yakuza world . . . you taught me that.”

Daigo: “. . . Mine . . .”

Thug Leader: “O-Oi! Who are you to come barging in and interrupting us! I’ll kill you if you interfere!”

Daigo: “Kill him? You don’t seem to understand the situation. With this guy here, you’re the one who’s going to have a bad time.”

Thug Leader: “Ha?”

Daigo: “Mine here looks like a regular man . . . but don’t you know he’s actually really strong? I can trust him to have my back.”

Mine: “!”

Daigo: “. . . Mine. With you here, we can take on a hundred people.”

Mine: “Yeah. Let’s show them how we do things.”

Daigo: “Let’s go, Mine!”

Mine: “Yeah!”

{Mine and Daigo take down the whole gang.}

Thug Leader: “How . . . there are so many of us . . .”

Mine: “You . . . which organization are you with?!”

Thug Leader: “Guh! Th-That’s . . .”

Mine: “Answer me!!”

Thug Leader: “Ta-Takashima Family . . .”

Mine: “Takashima Family? As in ‘The Four Kings of Omi’ Takashima Family remnants? Chairman, what are you going to do? The Omi will want to hear this . . .”

Daigo: “. . . No, I won’t tell the Omi. Even with the conflict finally over, I don’t want to make needless waves over these excommunicated members. The police can handle them.”

Mine: “Is that so . . . . . . Daigo-san, will you finally tell me what’s going on this time?”

Daigo: “. . . Yeah. The thing is . . . I was being threatened before today.”

Mine: “Before?”

Daigo: “‘If you want to protect the peace of Kiryu Kazuma, pay the money. If you tell anyone, his peace will be lost.’ I got an email telling me where to go. Along with a stolen shot of Kiryu-san.”

Mine: “His peace . . . then that means they didn’t directly take Kiryu as a hostage, right?”

Daigo: “Yeah. If they did that, they would be in trouble. Their opponent is a legendary yakuza. However, there are many ways to ‘disturb the peace’.”

Mine: “So that’s why. And you’re Daigo-san. You wanted to protect him at all costs.”

Daigo: “. . . Yeah. I’ve secretly stationed a bodyguard around Kiryu-san. Just earlier, I received a photo of the bodyguard killed.”

Mine: “That’s the email you received at the bar . . .”

Daigo: “As soon as I saw that picture, I had to move.”

Mine: “Daigo-san, why didn’t you tell me this sooner? If you had, I would have been able to help.”

Daigo: “‘Someone is watching you’, the email said, so I couldn’t speak about it. In fact, there was a guy there at the bar watching us. And this is my personal problem. I didn’t want to get you involved.”

Mine: “That’s why . . . it’s unreasonable for you to act on your own. You are the Sixth Chairman of the Tojo Clan, an organization with hundreds of thousands of members in the East. I don’t know the Fourth Chairman or the Legendary Dragon, but acting alone to protect one individual . . .”

Daigo: “. . . It was unavoidable. Kiryu-san is a special person to me.”

Mine: “Which is more important, the clan or one person?”

Daigo: “! Th-That’s . . .”

Mine: “Before, you told me that the clan members are like your family. Isn’t that right? You’re giving priority to someone who’s not even a member of the clan. Are you not aware of that as the Chairman?”

Daigo: “Mine . . . you’re right. I’m sorry. I still have a long way to go.”

----

|A few days later . . .|

[Tojo HQ – Chairman’s Office]

Mine: “Eh? Me be the Headquarters’ Junior Head Assistant?”

Daigo: “Yeah. I’ve been looking for someone to be Junior Assistant.”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “What? You don’t want to?”

Mine: “No, it’s just . . . the other day we had just been promoted to be a direct subsidiary of the clan. I haven’t raised any tribute since then.”

Daigo: “Didn’t you entrust your life to me? Did you not say you were prepared to sacrifice everything for me?”

Mine: “!”

Daigo: “. . . Mine. I realized something the other day. You . . . you’re the one I can trust with my back.”

Mine: “Daigo-san . . .”

Daigo: “In addition, there’s no one in the Tojo Clan now who can preach to me face-to-face besides Kashiwagi-san, Mine.”

Mine: “I might have gone a bit overboard . . .”

Daigo: “So what do you say? Will you accept it?”

Mine: “. . . Of course. I will be happy to accept it . . . Daigo-san.”

Daigo: “That’s great! I’m counting on you, Mine!”

----

[Tojo Headquarters]

Mine: (Junior Head Assistant. That was an unexpected harvest . . .)

Mine: (A man named Kiryu Kazuma. He’s a danger . . . I won’t let Daigo-san take such a reckless action again. I can’t leave that matter alone, as Daigo-san’s new Junior Assistant . . .)

.

-END-

Masterlist

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Success

Summary: You set up different students together on dates. What happens when your crush wants to be set up, as well?

Oneshot full of fluff and mutual pining!

Word Count: 1,619

Mingyu X Reader [Wonwoo, Jun, and Nayeon Mention]

Not Requested

Prompt: 12. Playing Holiday matchmaker basically having a stand like Sally from the Peanuts-- 

It was October twenty-first when I decided to play matchmaker. Wanting everyone to have someone to hold during the holidays and make a quick buck. Sure, I could have done a kissing booth, but getting Mono does not sound fun. It took two days to set up my stand outside of the school building. “(Y/n)’s Matchmaking Magic” painted in white in front of a pink heart on a yellow stand. Wanting to attract everyone at my school to come over to my stand. 

Day one went smoothly, with quite a few people picking up applications. Day two the same with a few people handing theirs in. Day three and four dragged by, I had one or two visitors, and neither picked up or dropped off an application. Both of those days, I was comparing matches, seeing who has the best compatibility. The fifth day at lunch I called over a promising looking couple. Telling them the arrangements I made, and they both seemed happy. 

After the weekend, I came back to my stand during lunch. To see both of them standing in front with matching gleaming smiles. They tell me about how well their date went. How much they appreciated my work that they recommended me to all their friends. My heart swelled at the compliments, and I told them how happy I was to see it worked out for them. 

I had a major influx that week, more people picking up and dropping off their applications. It got to the point where I ran out on Thursday. I could not believe my eyes, I had made two hundred copies, and I ran out. But that didn’t stop people from coming over. Telling me what their personality was like and what they are looking for in someone. As I wrote everything down in my notebook, hoping to catch every last detail.

Before I could head to the printer, there was one last person that walked up to my stand; someone who I didn’t expect or want to come to my stand. Not because I hated their guts, no quite the opposite. You see, I have been harboring the biggest crush on Kim Mingyu since I first laid eyes on him in eighth grade. I’m a senior in high school now, so if that gives you any indicator,... 

“I heard you ran out of applications,” I nod, “Would you mind if I apply anyway?” I shake my head 'yes', “Go right ahead, I’ll write it in my notebook.” He describes himself as tall, clumsy, and a puppy. I couldn’t agree more, and he continues explaining that he sucks at math. I want to snicker and tell him I could help him out. But I resist, and he tells me what he’s looking for in someone. Someone bright, kind, easy-going, and hopefully good at math. My brain couldn’t stop going, ‘One plus one makes two, say you’re his type!' Having to physically fight my brain was not on my agenda today, but it may be the front line page of tomorrow's news. I look up at him, “Any interests you would want in common?” He nods, “Someone who loves music and basketball.” All I can hear is my brain go, ‘Check, check, and check. Any more qualifications? I bet I can meet them.’ I smile at him, and I ask him if there is anything else. He shakes his head and says, “Thank you, (Y/n), I appreciate it. I know you can find the perfect match.” If it wasn’t for my name being on the stand, my heart would be beating out of its chest. 

I tell him it’s no problem and I’ll make sure he has a date for the holidays. He smiles, and with that, he walks away, and I walk to the office to print out more applications. Why did he of all people have to come to my stand? I fight with my brain to erase his beautiful smile from my mind. It’s not like I haven’t talked to him before, rather I’ve been his partner in math more than half of the time. Always helping him out as he makes me laugh about the simplest of problems. Why is he good-looking, funny, and kind? I shake my head ignoring these thoughts as I collect the applications and set them back on my stand. I set my arms on the plywood and sort through all the applications, and make pairs. Setting different people up for dates; when I notice someone who matches Mingyu’s type perfectly. I sigh and place their papers together. You can’t always get what you want is what that one Rolling Stones song says. 

--

On Friday, I call people over to my stand and tell them who I set them up with. When to arrive and what to wear. This part has to be the most fun up until I reach Mingyu and his soon-to-be-partner. I sigh and call him over, and his eyes are bright with a million stars, and has a cute smile playing on his lips. I shake my head of those thoughts as Wonwoo joins us. “Okay, so I set you guys up for Sunday at the Stone Cafe at 10? What do you think?” Wonwoo smiles over at Mingyu and Mingyu smiles back at him. They nod and I tell them specifics, and when Mingyu walks away. Wonwoo stays behind and asks, “What do I wear?” I smile knowing Mingyu pretty well, “Anything that looks nice. Mingyu is going to like whatever you wear.” He smiles and thanks me since I calmed his nerves down.

I go to the restroom and lean my head against the stall door. Ugh, why did I do this to myself? I could have set myself up with him. At least they will be happy together if Mingyu is happy then I am. I look through the few remaining applicants. Man, I need a date, I think to myself as I settle on the last few pairs. 

Monday comes around, and Wonwoo approaches my stand. He scratches the back of his neck, and I ask, “Did it go well?” He kind of grimaces, “Oh no, what happened.” He sighs, “It was on accident, but he spilled his pop all over me, and I was wondering if you had anyone else in that pile.” I wish to sigh in relief as I go through a few, “Well, I have two options for you, Nayeon or Junhui?” He looks over both applications and tells me Nayeon. I nod and tell him I’ll make the arrangements later today. 

Twenty minutes later, and Mingyu is telling me his date did not go well. How he spilled pop all over Wonwoo’s cashmere sweater and that he felt so embarrassed he paid for the whole meal and left. Jeez, no wonder Wonwoo wanted to go out with someone else. Although Mingyu is such a cute and sweet mess that I wouldn’t mind it. I have three more applications sitting in my lap, and I go over each, and he decides on Junhui. I agree wishing him better luck; instead of leaving, he asks me. “Have you set yourself up with anyone yet?” I shake my head, ‘no’, “I never got around to it.” He nods, “Well, since you listen to how everyone’s dates go. How about I return the favor when you go out with someone.” I thank him and wish to tell him that I want to go out with him and no one else. But the cowardly lion covers my mouth with its paw. He smiles and waves me goodbye, and my heart longs for him to stay.

Mingyu has yet come to see me, and it’s been a week since his date with Junhui. I guess it went pretty well, feeling proud and sad at the same time. I didn’t even know I could feel both of those emotions at the same time. Business went as usual when I noticed I haven’t seen Junhui since he dropped off his application either. I knew he was kind of shy, but he seemed so friendly. I mark on my calendar another arrangement. Nayeon told me how well her date with Wonwoo went. That he even asked her to be his, and I couldn’t help but share her excitement. Nearly everyone I have set up has been happy with my choices. 

That’s when Mingyu comes over, “Hey,...” I dread his tone already knowing it didn’t go well. “How did it go, Mingyu?” He pouts, “Not well,...” I pout back, “Why’s that?” He sighs, “I told them the truth.” I tilt my head to the side, “The only reason I came over to your stand was so I could spend time with you,...” I furrow my brows at his statement, “Okay, but what does this have to do with the dates?” He sighs, “Everything,... I would like to go on a date with you instead.” He scratches the back of his neck, and my jaw hits the floor. Kim Mingyu wants to go out on a date with me? My heart nearly goes into cardiac arrest. I smile at him and say, “I’m free Friday.” He smiles and says, “6 pm?” I nod and ask, “Stone Cafe?” He shakes his head, ‘no’, “Let me surprise you.” I shrug and agree when he leaves, I can’t catch the little ‘yes’ that escapes my throat. 

Jun comes over later, and I hook him up with Minghao, the only other applicant I have left. He agrees, and needless to say, everyone that got paired up at this stand has been a success. But you try sometimes, you find, you get what you need. 

[writethelifeyouwant]

Dive Bar, Ch. 4/?

Pairing: Dean x Sam,  Dean x OFC (Dany) x Sam (previous chapters)

Rating: 18+

Prompt/Summary: @spnkinkbingo square - Gay Panic (eventually, I don’t know how to write short things, so the gay panic comes later). Dany and Dean hit it off at a bar and Dean is confident it’s a sure thing. But Dean doesn’t know that Dany’s has a dare to complete, and he definitely didn’t imagine his night would end with his pull inviting his little brother to come home with them too.

WC: 2262

Warnings: angstttt, mentions of incest, brother/brother incest, mentions of blow jobs

Beta: my enabler - @negans-lucille-tblr​ 😘😘

Chapter 3

                                                            ***

At their next stop off, for a dinner that was slightly more substantial than their gas station lunch, they still weren’t talking. There was nothing to talk about besides what Dean resolutely refused to address, so Sam stuck to his silent treatment. 

Sam wasn’t sure why he wanted Dean to talk about the previous night so badly. If Dean turned around and asked him how he felt about what went down, he wouldn’t have a good answer. It was probably unfair of him to expect Dean, of all people, to be able to process it if not even Sam could. Okay, it was definitely unfair, Sam thought to himself. But in true little brother fashion, there was no way he was about to own up to that. 

Why did he have to make it such a big deal? Like Dean said, so they banged the same chick, so what? 

But that’s not all you did, that voice in Sam’s head pushed in again. You blew your big brother. Looked the man in the eye, the man who practically raised you, then sucked his cock down your throat. What the hell made you think that was a good play?

Dean had enjoyed it though, hadn’t he? It definitely sounded like he had. But how does that make it better, Sam, seriously? 

It does, he argued with himself. It does because if he enjoyed it too then it’s not just me that’s screwed to all hell. 

                                                              *

Dean could tell Sam was up in his head, obsessing over the night before. And the longer Sam stayed quiet, the more Dean worried about what he might be thinking about it. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what they’d done last night wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Except it was. It had been so fucking good he’d felt the ghost of Sam’s fingers and lips on his dick every time he had the misfortune to think about it again. And that had been a lot. That’s why you did the right thing shutting Sam up earlier, he reminded himself. Not the time to be popping random boners like a teenager. But the silence was making him self conscious as fuck. 

Once he’d made it through his burger, Dean pulled out his phone and started cold calling hunters, asking around for any leads in the midwest. They got a dime about a string of mysterious deaths about 100 miles south; violent and fairly improbable deaths. Very distracting. Thank god. 

The Impala was a little less tense now that they had a problem to solve. Their voices sounded a little less strained when they ran through the typical gamut of supernatural evil that could be causing all the mayhem they were driving for. 

When they made it into town, it was late enough that most reputable establishments would have been annoyed with them trying to get a room at that hour. Luckily, they didn’t stay in many reputable establishments, and the motel Dean pulled up next to didn’t bat an eyelid when two guys walked in with next to no luggage and wanted to pay in cash. They saw that a lot. 

Right now, Dean wasn’t wild about what they must have thought they were there for, and his insides were screaming out - Not here to fuck, I swear! Just your standard monster hunt. Nothing to see here. Not brothers sleeping with each other, that’s for sure. But as he couldn’t reasonably set the record straight, Dean left it, and strode back to the car to grab his duffle before cracking into their motel room. Sam followed close behind, slinging his own duffle onto his chosen bed. 

                                                            *

Exiting the bathroom after he’d gotten ready for bed, he was met with Dean holding a bottle of bourbon and wearing a conciliatory expression. Still silent, Sam nodded and accepted the glass Dean handed him a moment later. 

Sam settled onto his bed, already in just his t-shirt and boxers, and sipped quietly at his drink. Dean set his glass down on the table between them and took his own turn in the bathroom. He emerged in his typical sleep gear which, Sam all of a sudden remembered, was just his boxers. 

Jeez, put a shirt on. Sam tried to look anywhere other than at his very nearly naked brother, but it picked at him that if last night wasn’t a big deal, this shouldn’t bother him. It had never bothered him before. Although… Sam thought to himself. He had looked before, noticed the muscle definition, the odd freckle that hid behind the hair on Dean’s chest.  

Sam gulped down nearly half the bourbon in one go in an attempt to burn that thought out of his mind as quickly as possible. That is not how little brothers look at their big brothers. That is not how he looks at Dean. It’s just because he likes guys, at the very least he likes having sex with them. That much he’d come to terms with at college. And it’s not like there’s many dating opportunities in hunting, and Dean didn’t know anything about Sam’s broader sexuality so he wasn’t about to hook up with a guy at a bar when Dean was expecting him to take home a pair of boobs; or more typically, sulk off to the impala while Dean and his guest got their motel room for the evening. Dean was just the only guy around most of the time, that’s all. And since Jess, and then hunting, it had been years since he’d had the chance to to really look at another guy like that. So yeah, he looked, because Dean was not a bad thing to look at. 

But right now, Sam’s brain was at war with itself, one side wanting Dean to pull on a shirt and the sweats he’d wear when it got cold, and the other side wanting to peel off the last bit of fabric covering Dean’s skin so he could get a real look. And maybe another taste. And with that, Sam downed the rest of his drink, flicked off the table lamp, and quickly tucked himself under the covers with Dean at his back, who was left to stare blankly at a lump of blankets and messy hair, his full glass of whisky in his hand. 

                                                             *

Even though they’d driven a fair bit south of where they’d been yesterday, the grass still crunched under his boots when Sam trod across it the next morning. He’d already been out for a short run, and arrived back at the motel to find an empty room, with Dean presumably out looking for food. Sam settled himself with his laptop on a picnic table and rebooted the pages he’d had open the previous night at dinner when they started looking into this case. He brought up a new window to look into a thought he’d had on his run earlier. 

“This is a crappy park.” Dean arrived with their coffee and shoved a paper cup towards Sam, which he took gratefully.

Sam chuckled incredulously when he looked up to his brother, attention momentarily drawn away from his laptop screen. “The park is fine, Dean.”

“No swings. You gotta have swings in a park.” Dean shoved half his donut into his mouth.

Sam fixed him with an admonishing stare for a moment before letting out his amusement in a sharp exhale. “Okay, sure.”

“The swings were always your favourite. You don’t remember that?” Sam shook his head puzzledly. “Yeah,” Dean huffed in the way he does. “When you were a rugrat I couldn’t pull you off those things. Said it felt like flying.” 

Sam stared at him for a moment with something behind his eyes that Dean couldn't work out. He ran out of time to try; Sam’s hair fell back in front of his eyes when he looked down to his laptop again. 

“Hey, so, get this. I’ve been looking into the local lore and I think our victims -”

“How do you have wifi right now?” Dean asked through a mouthful of the other half of his donut.

“Phone hotspot. Want to focus for a second, Dean? People are, you know, dying here.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean grumbled. And he tried to focus on what Sam was saying about the creature that might be hanging out in the woods that he ran by that morning, Dean swore he was trying. But deciding to focus on Sam’s lips as a means to concentrate on the words that were coming out of them proved to be a thoroughly misguided strategy. Because the second he looked at Sam’s lips all he could think about was what they had looked like wrapped around his cock. What they’d felt like dragging across his skin. When Sam’s tongue flicked out to catch a drop of coffee that had beaded on the rim of the cup, Dean’s own tongue went dry, his breath caught in his throat. 

What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? Dean hoped his distress wasn’t showing on his face. It seemed like he was doing a decent job at convincing Sam he was listening, because Sam was still talking. This was really gonna bite him in the ass later if he had no clue what Sam was saying this whole time. 

Maybe you want Sam to bite you in the ass? Fuck, no, stop it. Dean was used to arguing back and forth with some semblance of a moral compass, though it usually lost, but this time he needed it to win. He had just been sitting there remembering how he used to push a little Sammy on the swings when he was squirt sized. Jumping from that, to wanting him to suck you off does not make you a good brother. Know what it makes you? An asshole. He was supposed to protect Sammy, take care of him, not take care of him. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice saying his name cut through the noise in his head, and he looked up at his little brother. He hadn’t realised he’d been scrubbing his hands across his face, no wonder Sam was looking at him like a sad puppy right now. “You okay, dude?” There was a hint of annoyance but it was mostly concern.

“Yeah,” Dean blinked and ran his fingers up over his face to scrub through his hair. “Totally awesome.” 

“Okay, well,” Sam didn't seem convinced, but maybe he wasn’t in the mood to push it. “Let’s go get our fed suits on and head over there.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Dean swung off the picnic bench and crumpled his coffee in one hand, tossing it to the nearest trash can. Sam snickered when it bounced off the rim, and flung his own to the same can from further back, landing it dead centre. Smirking, he set off with his laptop under his arm and Dean pulling faces behind him the whole walk back to the motel. 

“Where we heading again?” 

The glare Sam gave him made it clear he wouldn’t be getting an answer. 

                                                             *

By the time they’d made it to the local bar and restaurant that evening to grab some food and scrutinise the local wildlife for signs of supernatural proclivities, Sam was seriously confused. Dean had been acting off the whole day. And not just in the typical evasive act he pulled when he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he was spacing out of conversations about perfectly mundane things. Witnesses had started getting annoyed with him after the third time he asked the same question Sam had literally seconds beforehand. When they’d been let into the room of one of the victims, a girl about their age - just out of college, he hadn’t made any jokes about her extensive stuffed animal collection (those bears were freakin’ everywhere man), or the vibrator not so skilfully hidden down the side of her bed. When Sam had switched the music in the car, no warning and no asking for permission, Dean hadn’t batted an eyelid. And Sam had changed it to smooth jazz. 

Now Sam was standing, bewildered, by a barrel serving as a table that he’d been about to sit down at, because when he’d grab Dean’s shoulder to direct him towards the one empty table in the vicinity of the bar, Dean had broken his grip so fast you’d have thought Sam had insulted their mother. Dean came back from the bar with two beers and some menus, dropping all of them unceremoniously onto the barrel-top, and that’s when Sam noticed. 

This was the first time Dean had taken off his fed jacket all day and now he was rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie, unwinding from the persona and his bracelets were gone. This was the weird thing to end all the weird things that Dean had done all day. Since Sam had given Dean those stupid bracelets nearly a decade ago, he couldn’t remember a single day when Dean wasn’t wearing them. 

It wasn’t like they were valuable or anything. It was wooden craft store beads and elephant-hair cord that Sam had strung together at a summer camp when he was twelve. And he’d been embarrassed to give them to Dean when he got home, wondered why he thought Dean would want some lame homemade souvenir, but Dean had coaxed the presents out of Sam, and insisted that he loved them. And that was that, they’d been on his wrists ever since. But not today. Sam’s lungs deflated. 

Fuck. 

***

Tags: @negans-lucille-tblr​ @hawkerz12​ @babybrotherandthedemon​ @dylansbabygirl24​ @mineshinamary​ @popsensationnicole23​ @spn-problems​ @donthateme454​ @doyouknowsamw​ @peridottea91​@delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @fictionallemons​ @petitgateau911​ @natastic​ @marvelfansworld​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @akshi8278​ @crashlyrose​ @miufel​ @lyarr24​ @itsthedoctah10​ @kiss-my-peachy-arse​ @leftlokiofpuppy​ @tftumblin​ @devilsbby​ @alice101macwil​ @caitlinvd​ @j-ai-adore-dean​ @disneysloot​ @half-closeted-bi-girl​ @deandreamernp​

[origami10]

Ajin ch 86 thoughts

Okay, it’s been a little bit! Thoughts and spoilers under the cut! (Warning, this is very long)

Writing this in a word doc because a) I don’t want to risk going on tumblr and b) I don’t want to risk the post getting deleted in the middle  [note from the end: this ended up being four pages long in a Word document, so I’m sorry]

Ahhhh, last time buying the digital magazine ><    Until... if... Sakurai starts publishing something new...

It seems kind of unfair not to have Ajin be the cover feature if it’s ending DX I guess they’re just starting with a new series, though. Is that how that works? (It has a main character with white hair so I might be interested...) It’s at the beginning of the mag.

Okay, yeah, pages 111-175.  Aggghhhh I’ve always put off reading the end of series, but I think this is the first one I’ve been up to date with when it actually ended. Promised Neverland was close.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

ooh completely new characters...?????? whoops overshot the starting page by a few ughhhh it’s definitely the last one... I mean we knew that, but still..... OMG NO IT’S IZUMI AND TANAKA ISN’T IT??    jeez woah  I can’t wait to hear other readers’ reactions    [edit: yes this was about clover, and she recorded her reaction, which was beautiful ;u;] also omg they’re at least appearing together

omg Sakurai’s author’s note: “It’s very cold, isn’t it. Everyone, I hope you don’t catch a cold.”       YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT’S ENDING?

okay, so at least some time skip Tanaka: New identity, who dis Ooh, Izumi called Tanaka “anta” – the rude/familiar version of ‘you’, rather than the polite one. Honestly I don’t remember but it’s probably what she called him previously. And then turns around and called him anata the next page X’D  Okay, I’m glad that not being consistent is okay in Japanese, I always worry/wonder about that ooooh so Tanaka doesn’t have a new identity YET. I wonder how long it’s been?? omg Tosaki prepared it??    Was he thinking that far ahead? Or is he not dead....   ???  okay so he made it ahead of time     oh, and Izumi was the one who asked him for it??? Oh wow, Izumi has yet another change of identity. I wonder if she’s back to (omggg I forget D: her original name... Tainaka [hah]) Also another great shot emphasizing their height difference X’) lmaoooo I always love when there manages to be some humor oh, they’re only about three years apart! I wonder if that helps pin down the timeline at all??

Aw, Izumi still respects Tosaki lmao  “I’m going home.” “You really have places to be?”  Oh I guess that wasn’t quite it- she really was wondering if he was had a living location... so he has been kinda on the run ><    [Sakurai. Sakurai, happy ending. There is, right? Right?]

Oh dude I really didn’t think we’d get any resolution on that ship and like, idk if this counts as resolution but it sure looks like it does right now okay I’m really sorry but part of me is like ///we’re using so many of the remaining pages on this///  although oh I guess it’s only been 10 pages... it feels like so many since the chapters have been so short lately...

heyyyyy  I mean we kinda knew the U.S. ajin would be back or else what was the point of introducing them Ogura not being dead at the end of the series is extremely impressive (also hopefully Kai :prayer hands:  as in I think he survived) so Ogura didn’t tell them he was coming back huh ... with the crew??? :eyes emoji: lmao AND they thought he was dead, I’m cackling oh okay so they had heard he wasn’t dead the close up of Jim’s face reminds of Kai somehow I guess this manga isn’t so long (and the U.S. ajin left enough of an impression) that at least we’re not like WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE “I’ll kill you!!” “Go ahead!!”  HA Winnn I think the people in this series need to get their idea of ‘fun’ checked I don’t really understand what he says in the bubble after that... I’ll have to check the English did he like, metaphorically die because he’s out of FKs? I’m not up on my cigarette brands enough to know if that’s an FK or not... I think it’s what the brand turned into...? oh no what’s this omg    is it gonna be Kai? Are they all gonna be in there? Kotobuki??   also this is already super sad that not everyone got out of jail free... unless they did and I’ll see... but also it’s realistic so all for the best I guess?  i have no idea OH HA I thought it was the juvenile detention center but it’s Takahashi !  o_o not entirely sure I understand what Takahashi says to the guard either at least everyone’s having... fun??? KAI KAI KAI    gahhhh this looks exactly like how ch 69 started and agh they’re both in juvie but ahhhhh they’re together??         I’m already scared to read and actually find out –o- oh wait they have dates to get out!  and they said plural ‘we’ “That was fast”  I feel like that panel represents what this chapter means to me somehow lmao they just want them to be not their problem anymore... that really wraps it up nicely, hilariously, and realistically I’m glad I’m not translating this because there are really a couple lines where I don’t completely understand them “something happened that day”  um, yeah WOW I did NOT think we were going to get an answer to whether Kai was an ajin now or not, but I feel like that definitively answers that question?????     also that’s terribly funny HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW KEI REVIVED HIM??       -punches a wall-  Kai’s whole personality is  ‘I don’t really remember that happening’  >_____________________________> Kei... gave Kai a reason to live... because he almost died...?      I still kinda have faith in this wrapping up well but GOD Kai is not a character to invest all your emotion into, laughs cryingly Kotobuki: “You literally never make any sense, man.” oh no “ano natsu” GAH

I just realized that this almost certainly means Kai and Kou never met. There isn’t enough keysmashing in the world to express my desire to throw my laptop at a wall right now

In no way shape or form did I ever expect to get closure on Akiyama, even on him getting out of the barrel

Manabe definitely stole whatever it is he’s holding but it was probably some kind of personal effects...?  [my powers of prediction suck most of the time] he really looks beat up now ;u; Izukyū-Shimoda... Win, that’s not where you traveled, is it?  Maybe I saw it on the Sunday NHK travel program... but it’s also the end of the train line and has ferries going out into the ocean islands.  Is he getting away, or going home.......? or to Hirasawa or something...?

well that was an extremely abrupt shift are they really shooting Satou up into space they’re not using him as a test subject are they that sounds like an even more awful idea than I ever could have come up with okay... oh jeez can we please please not have Satou be Captain America you just KNOW he’s going to make trouble again, ,, , , ,!!

oh jeez Eriko! I didn’t expect to see her but it’s nice! it’s really sinking in that that’s all the closure we’re going to get on Kai isn’t it Eriko tsundere as if that needed confirmed okay cool, so she’s out of the hospital (for now)

It does seem appropriate? Likely? That Kei didn’t go home. WE BETTER SEE KOU THIS CHAPTER oh, it’s fall   (or winter? Izumi said it was cold...) oh phew

Sakurai said RIP KeiKai shippers I guess....  but they still influenced each other so that’s still shippable even though they’re not together?  sigh not everything is so straightforward and I guess it’s good it reflects that

Kei looks happy enough was Kei working a blue collar job with Kou or something? That’s 100% unexpected Kou adorable omg what is his new name gonna be Also ;-; so they’ve giving ajin rights but everyone’s still staying undercover...? or Kou isn’t I guess, that’s sweet oh wow we admit Tosaki’s great     I guess last chapter’s statement that they found his remains must have settled whether he’s alive or not ‘iroiro atta na’  YOU THINK    also pretty sure that’s Kai’s line from the drama CD what’s with that Kei face??? OMG PERF       also that is scarily close to what I wrote in a fic, but also pretty much to be expected crap I guess at least Tanaka and Izumi are with each other? KAI’S MOON JACKET   WITH THE SMILIE       we really messed up characterizing Kai as the sun haha he’s out he’s out he’s out is he going to meet someone literally zooming out on everyone (like at the end of last chapter too) is kinda messing with me Like they’re still around and doing stuff but we aren’t (don’t get to) watch them anymore Kou saying ‘let’s all meet again’... my heart is warm ;0; LMAO

we can at least rest assured that everyone stayed in character

I can’t I can’t I can’t  [note, this was when I thought Kei saying ‘nah’ was the last page]

O MM FRICKING GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

omg Sakurai you’ve done it again bwahahaah a coworker hit him and is like ‘oh cool fine nevermind’ this is WAY more hilarious than I was expecting for this chapter How do I always forget that Ajin has so much comedy not remembering what page number the chapter ends on is nice

Tankobon releases May 7th in Japan Elizaaaaaa Kei’s got a Shion coat

alright uh well I guess that’s good, in a way, we still get to imagine whatever we want

Finishing it hasn’t sunk in yet, I’ve have to get back to you on that one.

[queven]

Y’know Superman? This is an AU based on that

A/N: Me and my sucky titles. Prepare yourself for some heavy emotion 

“You!” a voice exclaimed angrily. Keith jerked his head up, his eyes meeting Lance McClain’s angry blue ones.

“How did you get an interview with Superman? He kept on refusing to answer me!”

That may have been Keith’s fault a bit. Okay, a lot. Their city newspaper, the Voltron Times, was looking for journalists to get an interview with the Man of Steel himself, Superman. Which was kind of lucky considering Keith is said Man of Steel.

It may have been cheating a bit, but Lance was already the best journalist on the team. Let Keith have a chance at getting the front page article, man. 

But now he had to deal with the angry journalist, who already declared a supposed rivalry with him on sight.

“Probably you were too forward with him. Maybe Superman is people-shy?”

Lance scoffed. “As if. He tried more pick-up lines on me than I’ve heard in my life, and that’s saying something”

“Pick-up lines?” Keith pretended to act confused. One of his favorite parts about being a crime-fighting hero was messing with Lance in his superhero identity.

“You know...like ‘You’re a knock-out!’” 

Keith snorted. Lance shot him a bemused look, tension easing from his shoulders, and then rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever. I hate that guy. Way too cocky”

Say what now? Keith thought Lance was into that stuff. It was easier to woo the dude with his own medicine while being the most famous hero in Altea City.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Take that, Sendak!” Superman aimed a well-made punch at the mad scientist supervillain who was knocked off of his new death ray. Seriously, that guy was so predictable. Every time, he would make a new death ray, and Superman would knock him out or destroy his machine with his laser eyes, and the cops would arrest the defeated Sendak. He would break out of prison again, and make a new death ray, and the cycle kept on continuing.

Talk about stubbornness.

Speaking about stubbornness, Lance McClain was storming over to the crime scene, clutching his journalist pad murderously.

Keith might actually be intimidated.

“I heard you gave an interview to Keith Kogane, but not me? Why? We’re part of the same newspaper. What does his interviewing have that mine doesn’t?” McClain actually looked a bit distressed.

“Changed my mind after you left. Felt that if people wanted an interview, an interview they will get. So, when Keith came to me, I accepted” he shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant, while hovering in the air.

Lance pouted, crossing his arms slightly, and Keith smirked at the sight.

“Hey, don't frown, you'll never know who might be falling in love with your smile”

A startled look came onto Lance’s face, and then he screeched, stomping away from the crime scene.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith was hanging out with Hunk, Pidge, and Lance at the cafe downtown for lunch when the subject came up.

“Who’s your guys’ favorite superhero?” Lance asked, chomping into his sandwich.

Pidge and Hunk perked up, exchanging looks. “Superman, of course” Pidge answered,”Pretty sure you already know that based on our dissection board”

Hunk and Pidge had a big dissection board in Pidge’s room, trying to find out the origins and limitations of Superman’s powers.

“Who’s your’s, Lance?”

“Batman, duh”

“Duh?!” Keith yelled indignantly. Seriously, why did Lance hate Superman so much?

“Well, Batman, unlike Superman, uses his brain, not super strength and powers and stuff, to defeat the bad guys” Lance finished, looking triumphant as if he just destroyed a debate opponent.

Keith had to grit his teeth not to pounce on the annoyingly infuriating guy. He also cursed his mind for falling in love with Lance.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Superman! Superman, wait up!” 

Keith recognized that voice, and smirked inwardly. Lance. The manager of the newspaper firm, Allura, got Lance on the case of writing Superman’s biography. Of course he perked up immediately at the chance of messing with the journalist again.

“Yes? Is there anything wrong? You already look perfect, no need to worry.”

Lance ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m working on an article again for the Voltron Times, and I need to know your secret identity? Like so that we can do this interview thing any other time you’re not bugged by fans”

“Nice try,” he chuckled, having gone through this a lot.

“It was worth it,” Lance leaned back, a bit more at ease. “But seriously, what about I ask you a few questions now, nothing about your identity, I promise.”

Keith nodded. Sounded fair enough. Spending time and changing the opinion of the guy he had a crush on? Count him in.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, what’s your favorite animal?”

Covering his hands to stifle the laugh that came up was hard. Lance groaned.

“Jeez, that was all I could come up with, okay? I didn’t expect you to say yes!”

“Don’t you always have a backup plan?”

“Ye-wait. How do you know that?”

Oops. He slipped. “You’re pretty famous in Altea City, to be fair. Leading journalist. Smart and pretty.” Keith answered, lying through his teeth.

The journalist blushed this time, shuffling through his haphazard notes blindly. “So? Your favorite animal?”

“Oh my god” Keith was actually stunned. Nobody had ever tried to ask such a normal question to Superman him before. “Hippos. Definitely hippos”  

Lance’s lip quirked as he was trying to restrain a laugh. He jotted it down into his signature notepad, and put his pencil down. Keith zoned out, observing his hands.

“Keith?” Lance asked, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah?” Keith answered back. WAIT. No. Superman. Not Keith. Shoot. “Umm...I mean...who’s Keith?”

“Nice try, man. I’d recognize that mullet anywhere” Keith put a hand to his hair, feeling the loss of an elastic band. Whoops.

“When did you find out? About this?”

“Probably a long while back, when you first gave yourself an interview. That’s cheating, technically”

“Oh”

“Yeah, I also said that comment during lunch today to test my theory out, and you reacted like I thought, so I thought Hey, he’s probably just a crazy fan or something, but no. You’re Superman.”

“Say it louder so that Sendak can hear, yeah?”  Keith snarked, feeling a bit annoyed and panicked at this point.

“Can’t-I can’t believe this! Superman is also the coworker I’m in love with! This is your secret identity!”

“In love with?” He felt like hysterically giggling, because they were both so stupid. And in love. Yikes. 

“Oh my god, shut up, Keith! Or should I call you Super Keith?” 

“No”

“Keith Man”

“No”

“Super Mullet”

“I will fly off and ditch you right here, and right now.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Superman, would you? Man of Steel, defender of the weak.”

Keith’s stomach rolled like it was attempting(and failing) to do a somersault. “You won’t tell anybody, would you? You better not. People could get killed, Lance.”

Lance chuckled nervously. “Who do you think I am? Some kind of gossip?”

Keith gave him a flat look, and Lance sighed, offering his hand out. Spitting on his palm, Keith slapped it onto the other’s, grinning slightly when Lance winced.

“I still don’t know why you always insist on doing this, do you know how unsanitary it-wOAH!”

He flew up suddenly, cradling a kicking Lance in his arms, laughing. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, a newspaper was slammed onto Keith’s desk by a familiar tan-colored hand.

“Nice paper today,” Lance stated, coolly.

The main headline was in block letters, saying SUPERMAN SAVES LOCAL JOURNALIST FROM DEATH RAY. The big front page picture was of Keith carrying Lance, who was making a peace sign with both hands to the camera, grinning widely. The article, written by Pidge, was going on about how Superman saved yet another citizen from Sendak and his reign of terror.

“Congrats, man. Allura must be impressed.” 

“Yeah, she’s impressed all right. Forgave me for not getting an interview earlier and failing to figure out yo-Superman’s identity” he finished, awkwardly.

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Smooth”

“Shut up.” Lance grumbled, cheeks flushed. “She still says I need some info on him, so how do you feel about meeting up later for coffee? Incognito?”

“It’s a date,” Keith grinned. He could live with this.

Part 2(fluff)